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...until
the crack found its home...
-
trays-
piled up with...
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Did my kisses
stir a flame in your...
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Pocketed acorns rattle
within clothing hung...
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Winter was never my favorite time of
the year...
-
It was long ago
and memories now...
-
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Piano sonatas burdened a lost soul
as scorpions whispered upon deaf ears...
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Sometimes,
I wonder what happened to those vivid images...
-
my eyes breathe in the air that behold an image of...
where the colours of love dilate within my heart...
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Who I was and who I am
is not who I am going to be...
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Charming layers
Saving prayers...
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True Lies (Vingt et Un)
Every poem has a kernel...