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A dirtless ditch, you tongue the plains and stretch numb arms in sleeves of ink. Eroding stone and carmine vines   claw into shoulders and dry eyes. Please heed my words escape artist. I would not lie on withered leaves. With rope and wall you cannot climb so high to fall and deaden nerves. Hands tingle now, needles alive like clouds and slate that built the skies. Throat thresh and whine at coal-charred mouth while legs do shine angelic fright. Wolves prowl the grounds to kiss the cheeks of those they yearn to eat but twice. A need for none is apex sin that Love does not, with ease, forgive. Look up to sky with smirk alight, and stretch your arms so wide. A stray dog's brow shows only strength. There is much hope for you.
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Apr 29, 2013
Apr 29, 2013 at 7:24 PM UTC
With Hands That Built the Skies
A dirtless ditch, you tongue the plains and stretch numb arms in sleeves of ink. Eroding stone and carmine vines   claw into shoulders and dry eyes. Please heed my words escape artist. I would not lie on withered leaves. With rope and wall you cannot climb so high to fall and deaden nerves. Hands tingle now, needles alive like clouds and slate that built the skies. Throat thresh and whine at coal-charred mouth while legs do shine angelic fright. Wolves prowl the grounds to kiss the cheeks of those they yearn to eat but twice. A need for none is apex sin that Love does not, with ease, forgive. Look up to sky with smirk alight, and stretch your arms so wide. A stray dog's brow shows only strength. There is much hope for you.
joseph-valle
Written by
American
Apr 29, 2013
Apr 29, 2013 at 7:24 PM UTC
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