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Aug 2013
A shadow in the courtyard.
Counting the pulse it calls for.
Plummeting consonants on each measure.
Particular, are her own fractures
To the pasture of the dark.
You would recall,
A desperate departure.
And settle with the queen.
A bedlam in the marsh, a bedlam in the hush.
Written by
Simon D Sprague
  1.0k
   Angela Mary Pope and st64
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