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"abberration" poems
I see him on film I developed him all wrong Now he's a negative. Cross processed by her, And then hung on a wall Bound by a wooden frame.
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Jul 6, 2012
Jul 6, 2012 at 4:04 AM UTC
tessa-stogian
She is a chromatic abberration
I see him on film I developed him all wrong Now he's a negative. Cross processed by her, And then hung on a wall Bound by a wooden frame.
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