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Dark Jewel May 2014
The trance of a deer,
Will only change if you move.

Bounding delighted,
The chase will move.
Into the meadows,
Of forgotten.
Lore.
Delilah Moon Apr 2014
my earliest memory are clouds
whirling fans
sticky heat
a car ride
greasy fingers
pepper lollipops
sugar coated stories
telephone polls
sheep cows horses
sheep
so many sheep
the window sweat
rapid spanish
windmills
burning sun
then I saw them
they were perfect
in a meadow
puffy
soft
warm
they went on
and on
and on
i wanted to eat
sleep
bounce
STOP
i screamed
STOP
WHAT?
WHY?!
STOP.
is it a doe?
NO
is it a cat?
NO
WHAT THE HELL IS IT?
a cloud
a farm of clouds
don't you see it?
no.

— The End —