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Jan 2014
A flash of light in a concrete jungle.
Hands folding in a mesh of loving flesh
to counter the iron-willed Northern wind,
to counter all these days spent so solemnly.

You press your outer crest – your weight on me,
when all is tired, all substance expired;
to counter separation from the heavens,
to counter all life's unwholesome blemishes

that otherwise shall leave me unfulfilled.
Edward Coles
Written by
Edward Coles  26/M/Hat Yai, Thailand
(26/M/Hat Yai, Thailand)   
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