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Rated: · Other · Other · #1870148

Short, but sweet.

Every memory is a fresh bank in the log.
A fresh thought where my stomach gets tight
And my eyes glaze over.

You stop me in the street and I don’t care what night star sees.
You wreck me and you make me wrecked.

Another day when the plague returns and I’m drizzling you all over me.
© Copyright 2012 Randy Jane (ratheralarming at Writing.Com). All rights reserved.
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