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Apr 2014
Sprawled upon a grazing hill, the sky scrolls above me
A cloud or spirit I cannot tell, my eyes are so deceiving
I’ll close my eyes and drift away, as if I am the shape above me
A memory comes into my dreams, a distant voice answers my needing
Remember me? I doubt you do, since neither you nor I were ever breathing
And yet here we are like passing clouds, all that sight ever needed was a feeling
Written by
Renn Pat
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