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Jun 2014
'Je suis perdu'
is a wrong spell I hang like oracles on
our lips
You knew purple is my favourite hue
you said you'd show me what colour loneliness bleeds
As though the uneven mixture of blue and
tells no stories of their own
That veins are but pulsing mechanisms, our
daily battle with the urge to
are our own Gods
In all perfect naΓ―vete tweak the points in the stars and
misalign fates
That all of a sudden the night sky, starlit and bare, are no longer
whispering secrets or teasing us with the winds.
Remember that desperation for instant
A single affirmation always taken for granted.
We are lonely.
And loneliness,
is red.
Written by
aegeanforest  under the weather.
(under the weather.)   
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