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| >> Static Item >> Poetry >> Personal >> ID #1719675 |
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were words I'd spoke before and so I spoke them (new) again was no one there to listen 'cept the raindrops on the glass the last of autumn colors melted somewhere to the east I could hear the first flakes falling as I drifted off to sleep wrapped in ashes cedar smoke feathers thick upon my breast song that cooled when met with change enough to keep me close drifting elsewhere beyond the frost patterns to the panes left my ribbons to show the way returning how long til they'd be covered up in dreams familiar warmth of made believe almost frozen by the fall the coming back much harder than it should have been lips turned blue as winters fell forgotten how to kiss and wrapped in wool (muted shades of red) stitched while I was sleeping far away in dreams of this
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