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she wades into the depth her hands ripples in the pond
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A shallow spring of innocence Erupts in gushing streams
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I was sitting down, watching the gray on white, as it curved, and flourshied into thoughts, and feelings. My legs shifted, as my mind drifted. The crackle of the leaves and the cool summer breaze seduced my eyes, and blinded
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There is black, there is white, and there was her, a girl between the ages of now and then. She had long brown hair, about medium length an
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The lullaby of sea on rocks
a lucid loop of sound
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Tacit understandings Of words on top of words
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incessant bleating of the beat
whistles whispers 'mongst the sheep
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Insurrection of the fuck
Reaks of sipid weeps and lust
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Giggles in a cloud of words Parallel a stream of thought
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Living by the trail of scents
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The floor was brown, the walls were white and the chairs were green. All of it was colorful, beautiful, clean and straight. Yet, I was slan
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trepidation toils not
slowly seeping, foils blot
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Arts alive, an air austere
Beating, breathing, Bones, Blood, blessed but
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There is an old house
White...Square...
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I sat in class long in the night
I made words on a paper with a pencil
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The people state: In love ,young one, you must weed out the bad to find the good.
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Lick my rape, slash second sun
Grab my leg into your run
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Man, I beg Burst forth from thy pilgrims womb
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Breathing laughter
Hold my lips
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like yeterday got a bed
It was sorta red
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Asleep in walls
My mind, lost, dull
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Small, serene
A river deep within the forest green
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Check ear, red tag
Fall gear, grey ground
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The echo of an empty hall
White shadows on the placid wall
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The quiet quill glazed softly, upon the open palms
It quickly quelling questions, spawned by moral qualms
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The last ten grains
Of hour glass
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