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Oct 2013
A pregnant pause, uninterrupted by the slightest,
turn of page.
They say write what you hear to a world of the
deaf.
I hear many things, and what of it. what of those sounds we
forget?
Those sounds we brush to the furthest expanses of our brains.

we sweep them under the bed not to
forget, but,
to clean. We're always cleaning, always
leaving those sounds.
Written by
Colin W  New York
(New York)   
766
 
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