December 2011
11 posts
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A cry
Not the wailing kind with all kinds of thrashing and uninhibited lung movement
A peaceful one
After you have already taken a shower and are lying in bed
A trickling of tears down the bridge of your nose
A little rivet that dries into a thin film on your face
One that brings pleasant dreams
At the end of the day lies a green, orange, pink helicopter night scented with alcoholic roses.
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