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Jan 2014
So much of death's life clung to his limbs. So much thirst drowning his lungs. So much hunger filling his gut.



The man was exhausted. The man was weighed down. The man had lost his pace, and had forgotten his face. Time forgot to matter, idle clocks hung. And I watched. As he pulled on.
Written by
lindisa mathabela  in my head
(in my head)   
814
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