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John Edward Smallshaw
Poems
Oct 15
Breathing in the evening.
We're dancing on the embers of a fire no one remembers
and this life is being ****** out of us,
up the chimneys, we spiral
like candy floss,
there is
sweetness in the air
but that's just death
it gets in everywhere.
Then to the room where the shades are drawn
a bit like the day before we were born
why fear?
we're here
we always have been.
Written by
John Edward Smallshaw
68/Here and now
(68/Here and now)
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Ben Noah Suresh
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