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Ottar
Poems
Aug 2013
shuffling off to find stars behind the horizon where my eyes set
sleep is knocking softly on the door,
my feet, my feet glide across the floor,
I move with ease and with grace,
something is wrong and out of place
even with two left feet it seems
one can dance, even in ones dreams.
yawnnnnnn
Written by
Ottar
where you will find me
(where you will find me)
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Claire R
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