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Scribbles
Wednesday, November 3, 2010
Beach Friday
smell of dried
fish and salt
the grey sea
ancient basked
under the sun
children picking
sand in little
cupped hands
him and he
once measured love
using little silver cups
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Those days
Toy
Ces't la vie
Green
" I long to sleep .. to sleep
but you must dance "
lonely
night
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Tearless - Awake
How much I love Strangers at night Fresh flesh - ...
Beach Friday
I wake up tired The first winter morning and the c...
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Megh
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