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"expell" poems
When Man, expell’d from Eden’s bowers, A moment linger’d near the gate, Each scene recall’d the vanish’d hours, And bade him curse his future fate. But, wandering on through distant climes, He learnt to bear his load of grief; Just gave a sigh to other times, And found in busier scenes relief. Thus, Lady! will it be with me, And I must view thy charms no more; For, while I linger near to thee, I sigh for all I knew before. In flight I shall be surely wise, Escaping from temptation’s snare: I cannot view my Paradise Without the wish of dwelling there.
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5.3k
To A Lady, On Being Asked My Reason For Quitting England In The Spring
I look at you on the sofa. Lying there all young, healthy And warm, and I don't just want you In the obvious sense; I want your Liver, kidneys, flat stomach, strong, Long, young legs. Frankenstein's parts-storage I want your youth.   I can't have it. I can't take it And have it. Angry. I want to Kick your *** but not really. I want your mouth to Expell something Other than this Teenage girl Chatter. I want to hit your pretty face With all of my one-third-life-crisis- Frustration behind it With a pillow. Eat feather, child! Chew cotton! Munch goose! Straight left-straight right. I have fought men Twice my size, I'll beat you up Until you Suffocate And surrender From Laughing So Hard.
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May 25, 2014
May 25, 2014 at 5:09 AM UTC
I Want to Pick a Pillow Fight
He has this nervous tick. When a person is lying he will open his mouth. Sometimes his jaw will hit the floor. Sometimes words will come out. And sometimes there are consequences, if not only a sore jaw. He is an affable man. Many would say he's a good sport and in good nature, even though he's not athletic and has severe allergies. Handshakes are important to him. And he understands the appeal of a thumbs-up. Hugs are reserved for holidays, and tears were only had at funerals. Sunglasses optional, but the only pair he owns he keeps in the jacket of his black suit. Any man that has a tendency to speak too freely, or too much, will have to learn to talk their way out of a potentially harmful situation. The "Gift of Gab"did not die with the smock. It evolved with the suit. It became five words said in three. It is in relation to political correctness. It's knowing that government is not ******** but many representatives are mentally challenged. He tries to stay ahead of his mannerisms. Raised eyebrow. Twitching eye. Clenched teeth. But some things cannot be hid. Like the vein in his forehead. And of course his verbal diarrhea. But he would rather expell insight and opinion rather than hold it in only to force it out later in privacy. People involved in Fine Art are shot on site. Possession of a canvas brings a life sentence. The art departments are born from advertising. False pretense is considered flexible. When the program used is for the sole purpose of manipulation you aren't expected to become angry. Government turns the clocks back, stretching time and truth, with knowledge of a man who has done the same, and was considered a master. Metaphysics and a mustache, he changed the world with a canvas, and with an open mouth he expelled truth and injustice to a contemporary audience. He applied his paint with a poetic eye. Soon he learned that you don't need to start a fire to melt a clock. All you need is a brush, and sometimes a barren tree.
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Nov 9, 2013
Nov 9, 2013 at 11:00 AM UTC
Dali
He has this nervous tick. When a person is lying he will open his mouth. Sometimes his jaw will hit the floor. Sometimes words will come out. And sometimes there are consequences, if not only a sore jaw. He is an affable man. Many would say he's a good sport and in good nature, even though he's not athletic and has severe allergies. Handshakes are important to him. And he understands the appeal of a thumbs-up. Hugs are reserved for holidays, and tears were only had at funerals. Sunglasses optional, but the only pair he owns he keeps in the jacket of his black suit. Any man that has a tendency to speak too freely, or too much, will have to learn to talk their way out of a potentially harmful situation. The "Gift of Gab"did not die with the smock. It evolved with the suit. It became five words said in three. It is in relation to political correctness. It's knowing that government is not ******** but many representatives are mentally challenged. He tries to stay ahead of his mannerisms. Raised eyebrow. Twitching eye. Clenched teeth. But some things cannot be hid. Like the vein in his forehead. And of course his verbal diarrhea. But he would rather expell insight and opinion rather than hold it in only to force it out later in privacy. People involved in Fine Art are shot on site. Possession of a canvas brings a life sentence. The art departments are born from advertising. False pretense is considered flexible. When the program used is for the sole purpose of manipulation you aren't expected to become angry. Government turns the clocks back, stretching time and truth, with knowledge of a man who has done the same, and was considered a master. Metaphysics and a mustache, he changed the world with a canvas, and with an open mouth he expelled truth and injustice to a contemporary audience. He applied his paint with a poetic eye. Soon he learned that you don't need to start a fire to melt a clock. All you need is a brush, and sometimes a barren tree.
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52
she sneezesas the breezes carry the pollen to her nostrils she is small and somewhat frail but when she sneezes she creates more than breezes she makes a gale and the noise is like thunder as her lungs do the rumba all in order to expell the pollen from her being her eyes cross and fixate on an ephemeral state in order to calibrate the legnth of the ah in her ah-choo sometimes it is large and elongated sometimes small delicate statacco and then again it may be somewhere in between the two and after she sneezes and gales and wheezes...she seems stunned by the fuss and disharmony she created by nasal cacophony and in her daze, the taps her nose and says quite clearly good old faithful.... .....thar she blows
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Mar 10, 2017
Mar 10, 2017 at 8:04 AM UTC
Mrs Blunt and her extraordinary nose
shadows long, fall on pavement wet and inside the teetering, jenga blocks, people reside in caves opulent and electric. and green is a colour, forgotten and  bluesky, a patchwork quilt, seen in fractured glimpses, on the way to and from. flowers bright and vivid, come delivered and earth the thing, we save by sitting. in the almost, dark for an hour a year. shadows short, fall on barren ground. as city dwellers, breathe grey air and expell trash and detrius muck no shadows now just black all around no dwellers, no sound.... perhaps we needed to sit in the almost dark much longer and love the ground on which our life is found.
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Jul 20, 2014
Jul 20, 2014 at 12:06 AM UTC
shadowplay
Fatal. Femme Fatal , seduced by ulterior motives, the truthful warrior Kills with peaceful intention but it is only wicked nonchalance to; day to day ferocities that mimic hard time , war time , conventions Lemon yellow pieces of firefly bisquits Rain down from the fogged fetters. Lyrical haze- in soft beat cheetos Where sunshine, headlights on fusion cars (expell) expose the water particles Suspended in animation - falling- in slow motioned elegance like after a shower with the doors and windows closed the soupy soup soup of swimming in wavey air...
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Sep 24, 2013
Sep 24, 2013 at 8:20 AM UTC
hoodrats , and hoodlums - who's scared who's brusin ? tehehe. ( titles ...eh)
As if the sun had rose for the first time I witnessed the beauty of a day beckoning and bursting with light Awakening and coaxing my feet Urging me on Dismissing the darkeness that once consumed and committed me With open eyes the questions are endless and I realised how much of a child's mind posesses my growing wit I try to expell the corruption and injustice to breath freely if only for a moment Craving the euphoria nature aptly offers free and full of grace I ponder her deep waters and ceaseless wind Trees like towers wave off and hypnotizes Simplicity is now becoming a great friend Taming my wild mind I am clawing at temptation and I must force my will to break this Who am I without this twisted warping sickeness I try so hard to decipher this but only time can reveal the true stasis
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Aug 22, 2013
Aug 22, 2013 at 4:02 PM UTC
Untitled
I would rather smoke some cigarettes than be with you, For it is better to die in pain rather than dying in love. For you it is a game, a juxtaposition of our dimmer love, And you would **** me For some meat. The dawn wouldn't break If we don't get away, Cause it's a concussion That I am experiencing now, For our love in now in a ghetto, Never to be opened, For "our love" is just a word now. I would rather smoke some cigarettes than be with you, And expell the love from within my heart, And poison it with disgust and hate And go away from light to the dark
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Apr 4, 2017
Apr 4, 2017 at 3:45 AM UTC
I would rather smoke some cigarettes than be with you
i am a wandering comet a long forgotten star drifting listlessly through some eldritch darkness the stuff that dreams are made of sustains my formless husk as i drift and drift and drift and drift towards that wyrd and faint light i want you to call my name i want you to say it! but... even if those words did expell from those lips that i long to kiss i would not know... the void pilfers greedily all sound no matter how powerfull the meaning behind them there are endless stars and planets in this symposium of emptiness one day i will crash somewhere and, it might not be on your planet... it might not be where you are will i live for eternity alone? searching fervently in vain through ancient smog and blackest rain that melts my mortal coil and tears away at my lungs until i am truly but a husk a vestigial being, devoid of light please... call for me i am drifting away
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Jul 18, 2015
Jul 18, 2015 at 8:29 PM UTC
husk of the wandering comet
The love will flow like a river. Unquestioned halted by obstacles. Let tears carry your joy and your pain. Let the sweat expell it's jealousy. One way or another, It will flow either way.
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Mar 9, 2014
Mar 9, 2014 at 9:19 AM UTC
Place
Today I saw a small white pebble suddenly burst open and expell small specks of multi-colored dust; I guess it just couldn't hold it or help it. And then I trapped a small black flea beneath my fingernail; it fought and struggled but I could hold it and it was helpless. Today I watched as the sun baked an ant's bed warm and roasty; it even smelled like burning ants when I bent and looked more closely Then I imagined a black widow spider fighting off three preying Manti, they were winning at first but she carries the gift of the Magi. Today I watched a few horseflies give fervent chase to one another; I'm not sure but from what I saw I think one was the other one's brother. Today I saw two flirting butterflies, one gently kissing another I bent my ear so I could hear what they were whispering to each other But I could not hear the words she said by the wind they were covered, but in his eyes I read his soft reply: I know you don't belong to me but I will love you like no other.
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Oct 18, 2011
Oct 18, 2011 at 11:45 AM UTC
Today
If I had to read one of these Terrible things That expell the thoughts in my head I wouldn't know what to read For the only words I care about are the Ones that mention you But you are not worth the publicity
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May 16, 2014
May 16, 2014 at 4:59 PM UTC
PR
I feel the last few spare hairs fall away from the crystallized tower on top of my scalp as our adopted mother walks by spitting smoke into the breeze which is blowing away from us, letting the words "I do wish you could just kiss and make up" spread along the outline of the fading smoke coming from nowhere obvious spurred on by nothing. I hear the voice behind me agree and I murmur my own agreement but I see none of that when I look into the eyes of her eldest daughter I see no chance of me rekindling anything with the girl inside, cleaning the kitchen alone. For the first time in three years I see no love for me in her eyes and I watch her hands pick up papers and ***** dishes and realize that they will no longer be in mine I see words hidden behind her eyes but realize I will never hear them as I run through the kitchen on my way to the bathroom to expell from my bladder my attempt to caffeinate her away, as I run through her house, my second home and realize she hasn't even bothered to meet my eye today. I look in the mirror at my hair and smile wide, forgetting the tears that have been frozen in my eyes since I realized that I had lost the first person to find me the first person to find out who I was, so I smile as I look in the mirror and see someone completely different
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Jul 24, 2013
Jul 24, 2013 at 3:29 AM UTC
Untitled
You couldn't swing a dead cat Between me And the Core of All Existence. I hide myself from External Affairs Behind homeground Impenetration. All I care to explore is my own Present outermost psychocosmos. I could open my mouth and Expell whole systems; solar and Other. In constant consumption with Every sense employed; I know not When to stop. I breathe pure air on spiritual diet, Slimming down to a complete Absence of Self. Leaving an Impression like a Lover of Life on Something dead; I feel nothing But alive. I close my eyes and bask in the Loaded sensation Of every gun in the room Being pointed at my person. They live by me.
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Apr 12, 2014
Apr 12, 2014 at 10:29 AM UTC
Home Alone Watching Rain on Window
I wish I could expell This wild beast from my chest, This bottomless well, Merciless tempest. . It roars and screams For things it can't get: Insubstantial dreams, Uncollected debt. . And it isn't fair That efforts mean naught; When all is laid bare - Love can't be bought. . I long and I ache, At the mercy of fate, Its give and take, The cruelest bait. . The suffocating need To not be alone, Unrelenting greed, Scathing to the bone. . It rakes its claws deep Through my ribcage, Makes me weep, Helpless with rage. . Its loathsome fury, Feral with want, My judge and jury, Inescapable haunt. . And it makes me think That it's you I'm missing, But it's really that link, That has me reminiscing. . And I tried with such ardor To find it once more, But it's getting harder, And my soul is sore. . Tired of hoping And letdowns, in vain, Tired of coping With this constant pain. . If I were not godless Surely I would pray To finally convalesce, To just get away. .
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Apr 16, 2025
Apr 16, 2025 at 3:32 PM UTC
Tempest
And what do I say, when you've took all those words, and crammed them away into a pretty little bouqet of tulips. What do i expell from my lips, with a sorry wrapped up like this. Bright green ribbons and blood red buds, Scattered across Years of disappointment. When you propose to wine and dine in an attempt to confine this mess you've made. What do i say? Because id do anything to make this okay.
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Apr 27, 2014
Apr 27, 2014 at 8:57 AM UTC
speechless apologies
It was a flower Not one of those Colirful flowers whose Smell would expell your mind Into the state of ectasy Nor was it one Of those flowers That attracted a lot of bees nor gazes However, it was A flower that could Withstand any drout Or any flood That came it's way It was a flower That could grow Anywhere, out of What seemed like nothing When a young man Was passing through The flower fields He stopped To pick up a flower Perhaps for his love or mother But he took another For as, like flowers like people Are chosen by their beauty And not their root
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Jul 31, 2017
Jul 31, 2017 at 12:32 PM UTC
A flower
I am frustrated with myself Y won't I change myself? I do all the work on myself But I still am not getting the results I want from myself Who I am now is not enough to be self I need more of myself To expand into more of myself but still I can't bring change through myself I am age deaf Deaf to the inevitable success brewing in myself, Something mischievous is working against my self Maybe an elf That doesn't want to be a shelf Holding onto parts that remind me of the inadequacies of my knife I can't cut through to release myself I desperately want to rebrand myself So I can differentiate from my past self I am tired of proving this new self Her existence stranger to her own self All she wants to be is high on life it self Which always reflects back her divinity in herself Ooo the pains of being so focused on myself I can't get enough of all this attention on myself From myself All my problems a delight to marinate on oneself Isolated from the world's problems watching from the topself I have to solve my own problems before I can focus on your self Ooo but my lonesome can't stand figuring all this out by myself I guess that's y we split up and branched out to explore our self So we can share different possibilities to free my self And your self So we can remember the freedom of being non self. So goodbye not self I tried but I can't bring myself To act in your behalf With you I can't laugh I'd rather be the staff of my higher self My lowerself is betting on the neck of this giraffe, You don't give an F, But you will when you realize you're nomore 12. These cycles won't break themselves. So let's rev And meet our best self It's OK to lean into help You don't need to pay for this soul hotel Drink up from this well So confusion you expell Clarity your gut smells Your present self is perf You just gotta remember your true self God herself within you dwells So give up the struggle, time to rebel No need to repel What is true in this melt Your soul awakens to help your human compell You already have the wealth Like the clothes you've been dealt
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Mar 12, 2025
Mar 12, 2025 at 3:01 PM UTC
An ode to an immortal from one
I am frustrated with myself Y won't I change myself? I do all the work on myself But I still am not getting the results I want from myself Who I am now is not enough to be self I need more of myself To expand into more of myself but still I can't bring change through myself I am age deaf Deaf to the inevitable success brewing in myself, Something mischievous is working against my self Maybe an elf That doesn't want to be a shelf Holding onto parts that remind me of the inadequacies of my knife I can't cut through to release myself I desperately want to rebrand myself So I can differentiate from my past self I am tired of proving this new self Her existence stranger to her own self All she wants to be is high on life it self Which always reflects back her divinity in herself Ooo the pains of being so focused on myself I can't get enough of all this attention on myself From myself All my problems a delight to marinate on oneself Isolated from the world's problems watching from the topself I have to solve my own problems before I can focus on your self Ooo but my lonesome can't stand figuring all this out by myself I guess that's y we split up and branched out to explore our self So we can share different possibilities to free my self And your self So we can remember the freedom of being non self. So goodbye not self I tried but I can't bring myself To act in your behalf With you I can't laugh I'd rather be the staff of my higher self My lowerself is betting on the neck of this giraffe, You don't give an F, But you will when you realize you're nomore 12. These cycles won't break themselves. So let's rev And meet our best self It's OK to lean into help You don't need to pay for this soul hotel Drink up from this well So confusion you expell Clarity your gut smells Your present self is perf You just gotta remember your true self God herself within you dwells So give up the struggle, time to rebel No need to repel What is true in this melt Your soul awakens to help your human compell You already have the wealth Like the clothes you've been dealt
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57
the cool air of the morning awakens me, bird's bustle and gossip in the first rays, of a new turn around, the sun. tears pool and nestle, at the bridge of my nose, thick with emotion left from a dream. devoid of details, but rich in sorrow, a hungering feral sorrow. that still lingers, licking at the corners of my mind. i feel a discordance with myself, sighing to expell this thing prowling, my breathe, catches on a sob. the kookaburra's laugh, jarringly close and then further away. i wipe at these tears, unbidden, unshed and turn? to find my grounding, my steadfastness, my hearts ease watching, he draws me to him, his lips,smoothing my furrowed brow, his hands creating an intensity, that is ours alone. we make, sweetness and beauty, joy and oblivion, before falling asleep once more.
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Apr 20, 2014
Apr 20, 2014 at 5:48 PM UTC
oblivion
I do not dare myself compare Against the flame within your state My love, you fill each breath of air So that each word may expell hate You soar so high, you bring me low To roots, to nourished earth - I grow For you, my sun You tend to life, and love and play- You ease my nights and brighten my day
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Dec 29, 2022
Dec 29, 2022 at 4:41 PM UTC
Angel
*Sometimes, It's not the World That helps me write. It's the Loneliness and The World of darkness. Because, I have to raise from Where I fall And achieve What I lost. My words give me Light to at least fight The darkness which I cannot completely Expell from my thoughts and Life. If there is no darkness how I Know the value of light. I also praise my darkness*
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Jan 27, 2017
Jan 27, 2017 at 1:00 PM UTC
1103. Darkness
How faint the birds chirp, the wind brushed against the grass My body weak from the walk here, to the hill I expell my stresses Sitting at the top, looking out to the sea of trees The birds follow me as I walk, giving me songs to keep my energy They lower their song to a hum, for they know I enjoy the solitude How I envy the melody they carry, how natural and gorgeous it is Looking out with my wishes on my tongue I speak them to the breeze, so that the wishes may travel To somewhere else, were they may come true
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Aug 27, 2015
Aug 27, 2015 at 2:05 AM UTC
Bird Songs
Extensive and seemingly endless, the range of human language Nor the art of stringing words together like a seemstress of letters, nothing Nothing perfectly describes, in full detail, the amount of damage per second dealt to the human spirit due to the inevitable, heartbreak. Heartbreak is a truly broad description of the feast of sadness. For your drink sip the pain of disappointment. As for a starter You get misdirected anger An entrée of Vacant thoughts For desert it has to be Long term absentness. Nothing, nothing at all compares to this pity filled meal. Personally, I would rather Fight a bear bare handed Catch a horseshoe with my lower jaw Then be subjected to death by a sadistic firing squad. But heartbreak is so broad.   I know I've said it twice. From the loss of a pet/person To the spiritually shattered And the ever present, Romantic heartbreak. a Shakespearean tragedy playing like the fifty year old vhs copy of Charlotte's web at the department of motor vehicles. I whiteness the death of "I love you" I know I'll miss simple things more than the bigger ones. Like your hands. I know I'll miss your hands. I'd rather smash my fingers one by one with a sledge hammer than experience the "thrill" of intertwining them into anyone else's hand. I'm an idiot I'm stupid in love But if our "fire" died to you, Know that to me; Flames creep through me like California wildfires, With each exhale I expell the chard remains of who I was as I grow with you, With each inhale I feed the fire fresh air and with every step I leave embers in my wake. I love you God, I love you. I'm not ready to sip from the basin of defeat. I never will be. I'll burn until my skin melts I'll burn until the gravity of my love swallows the world around me I'll burn until super nova I'll burn until I implode into a black hole to keep you by my side
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Aug 27, 2015
Aug 27, 2015 at 4:03 PM UTC
Journal entry #1
Extensive and seemingly endless, the range of human language Nor the art of stringing words together like a seemstress of letters, nothing Nothing perfectly describes, in full detail, the amount of damage per second dealt to the human spirit due to the inevitable, heartbreak. Heartbreak is a truly broad description of the feast of sadness. For your drink sip the pain of disappointment. As for a starter You get misdirected anger An entrée of Vacant thoughts For desert it has to be Long term absentness. Nothing, nothing at all compares to this pity filled meal. Personally, I would rather Fight a bear bare handed Catch a horseshoe with my lower jaw Then be subjected to death by a sadistic firing squad. But heartbreak is so broad.   I know I've said it twice. From the loss of a pet/person To the spiritually shattered And the ever present, Romantic heartbreak. a Shakespearean tragedy playing like the fifty year old vhs copy of Charlotte's web at the department of motor vehicles. I whiteness the death of "I love you" I know I'll miss simple things more than the bigger ones. Like your hands. I know I'll miss your hands. I'd rather smash my fingers one by one with a sledge hammer than experience the "thrill" of intertwining them into anyone else's hand. I'm an idiot I'm stupid in love But if our "fire" died to you, Know that to me; Flames creep through me like California wildfires, With each exhale I expell the chard remains of who I was as I grow with you, With each inhale I feed the fire fresh air and with every step I leave embers in my wake. I love you God, I love you. I'm not ready to sip from the basin of defeat. I never will be. I'll burn until my skin melts I'll burn until the gravity of my love swallows the world around me I'll burn until super nova I'll burn until I implode into a black hole to keep you by my side
Continue reading...
62
I'm drenched in the stench of yesterday And flies circle my head I'm stale I'm mouldy I hold no value Hair coated in grease Dirt under my nails No reason to expell any effort Laying in self pity and dispair My scabbed over wrists bring back memories To last night Which I still reek of
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Jun 8, 2014
Jun 8, 2014 at 11:44 AM UTC
Stale
Reaching strangers through unseen signals Less than I expell Character error Flawed No scratches Claws Imagine digging deep Into my back Tangle flesh Embracing sin Time spent alive Like god And goddess Creators Crashing minds Through the shadowed Sweet night Steal the time Before history decays The possibilities
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Oct 25, 2016
Oct 25, 2016 at 10:48 PM UTC
tight warm embrace