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Welcome ! | Home · FAQ · Topics · Web Links · Your Account · Submit Poetry · Top 30 · OldSite Link | 01-June 12:53:24 AEST | ||
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Array
(
[sid] => 173335
[catid] => 1
[aid] => mick
[title] => I cannot write for fear that with every word a part of you leaves me
[time] => 2012-07-12 05:40:20
[hometext] =>
[bodytext] => And I have never felt anything more real Than how you feel on Sunday mornings Your body entangled in mine Black and white lines And I wish I stayed a little longer I wish the hour stretched its arms a little further until it met with the minute hand and made a figure eight My eyes roll back and so does the tape Our memories on repeat Millions of moments turned to still life portraits that make a mosaic out of your face And every line, every imperfect line, forms in asymmetrical shapes.. those three words Our sweat forming in my eyes begin streaming down my cheeks Time really doesn’t heal all And the ticking only serves as reminder of what use to fill every space [comments] => 1 [counter] => 158 [topic] => 43 [informant] => cathartic [notes] => [ihome] => 0 [alanguage] => english [acomm] => 0 [haspoll] => 0 [pollID] => 0 [score] => 0 [ratings] => 0 [editpoem] => 1 [associated] => [topicname] => oops )
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