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Apr 2014
who now sleeps in your tides of a body?
now I give up
The bed,
The food,
The time
Lives.

I don’t think heaven is here
I don’t believe in your god
Take me away to
another soft tide of a body
The milk shades in rooms

naked people on streets
The homeless finally smile.
prose
people
John Beetle
Written by
John Beetle  London On
(London On)   
340
 
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