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El Matador Lucida
Tuesday, February 8, 2011
when my nights were shorter, i read a story.
now you are something else.
i knew you were here,
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when my nights were shorter, i read a story.
sh'e
silumenare retrato
there was
for those
i don't normally
a pair of hands
mornings brushing teeth
in january
after closing an open window
wait
not entirely
cinq rue st merri
some sound
dates
sucre
they mean something different now
mid mode
between there and there
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