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it wouldn’t have been as stunning, the sun in it’s witness. it would have been cunning if the wings coyed flightless. but a cloud blanketed today, a lost ambition within bare arms, black waiting water her fascination’s prey. the smell of seagrasses, the smell of foulness, life leaving room for death’s anchor- the spurned sun. if it weren’t for you I’d kept away. if it weren’t for you I’d remembered to keep in-between being wet and melty and forsaken.
0
Apr 13, 2014
Apr 13, 2014 at 10:36 PM UTC
the heat of the son
it wouldn’t have been as stunning, the sun in it’s witness. it would have been cunning if the wings coyed flightless. but a cloud blanketed today, a lost ambition within bare arms, black waiting water her fascination’s prey. the smell of seagrasses, the smell of foulness, life leaving room for death’s anchor- the spurned sun. if it weren’t for you I’d kept away. if it weren’t for you I’d remembered to keep in-between being wet and melty and forsaken.
blabhabans22
Written by
American
Apr 13, 2014
Apr 13, 2014 at 10:36 PM UTC
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