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Oct 2013
Its much like soul flares,
            When love, escapes your fingertips,
            & that iced cauldron,
             Swishes down your throat.
            Like definitions, of FEAR

We become loose, like gas.
             Lingering above a purple flame,
             Ready for rebirth,
             As a match, begins his nightly routine.
             & ignites destiny, for exploration.
David Johnson
Written by
David Johnson  Racine, Wisconsin
(Racine, Wisconsin)   
619
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