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Aug 2013
There's singing
out my window
on
rue molière
and I swear it
is a bird
(perhaps)
the sound
of dripping
honey

or the agony
I feel when
I feel your
eyes on mine and
I can only look
away

And air through a pipe is
a bird is
a flower is
(you are)
lavender honey,
and a songbird, all the same.
Written by
Sarah  F/Oregon
(F/Oregon)   
4.9k
 
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