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El Matador Lucida
Friday, December 10, 2010
days we
stay here
talk here
(un)fold the map
we drove through the night.
a lake where we stood
yelling.
the harvest
where its surface holds your hand.
so
we begin
photographed by a friend we visit often
visiting the morning before. the seat without.
still
versation
from the expanse,
a moment,
return
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days we
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