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coffee spitting. clicking. fingertips stumbling ever so awkwardly across the keyboard. slightly stale leftover love. making memories drift in from the other room. secondhand bassline like an artificial pulse. incomprehensible morning chatter rising from the carpet tickling the bare feet. neutral silence running noticeably underneath it all. like an omen or a prayer. a lost soul’s secret. desire untold, and thus forgotten or maybe just silence. and nothing more
0
Aug 10, 2011
Aug 10, 2011 at 4:31 PM UTC
The Music of Six-Fortyfive Am
coffee spitting. clicking. fingertips stumbling ever so awkwardly across the keyboard. slightly stale leftover love. making memories drift in from the other room. secondhand bassline like an artificial pulse. incomprehensible morning chatter rising from the carpet tickling the bare feet. neutral silence running noticeably underneath it all. like an omen or a prayer. a lost soul’s secret. desire untold, and thus forgotten or maybe just silence. and nothing more
jm-romig-1
Written by
34/M/American
Aug 10, 2011
Aug 10, 2011 at 4:31 PM UTC
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