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Up in a room, Cool and sterile The walls echo silence Light filters in Down a flight of stairs Out the side door To the lake, An Ocean unto itself The Sun is high when the memories come Water is warm, skin is cold Leaving a wake behind, moving quickly Out from under, the lucky ones Clambering now, upon a pier Out of the water with nothing to fear The Sun is low and the colour is draining The brush is drying, as is the painting
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Apr 28, 2016
Apr 28, 2016 at 9:07 PM UTC
The Isabel
Up in a room, Cool and sterile The walls echo silence Light filters in Down a flight of stairs Out the side door To the lake, An Ocean unto itself The Sun is high when the memories come Water is warm, skin is cold Leaving a wake behind, moving quickly Out from under, the lucky ones Clambering now, upon a pier Out of the water with nothing to fear The Sun is low and the colour is draining The brush is drying, as is the painting
ConscienceFalls
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Apr 28, 2016
Apr 28, 2016 at 9:07 PM UTC
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