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Welcome ! | Home · FAQ · Topics · Web Links · Your Account · Submit Poetry · Top 30 · OldSite Link | 29-May 17:19:06 AEST | ||
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Array
(
[sid] => 180560
[catid] => 1
[aid] => mick
[title] => Life
[time] => 2015-02-15 19:03:07
[hometext] =>
[bodytext] => Well perhaps this might very well be it, for if it isn’t I am at a loss. Chastised for looking at myself this way, only way I know how. We could trade places; we could trade words, no two of us alive, no two of us alive indeed. Sun drenched cabinets, bathing in an arrangement of sorts. Coveted panes, a layer topped off, panes of yesterday, translucent oval windows. For all of us cry, we soothingly stray towards comforting apertures, gleaming interstices seducing charmed neophytes. Leaflets of indescribable mentions awkwardly scattered along this disarrayed rug, pamphlets of a life we failed to start anew, shattered thoughts. Sometimes, all I desire is to make you feel like you matter, all I need is that one task. My life then, complete, my life then, wondrous. We will make love, we will make life, we are life. [comments] => 1 [counter] => 147 [topic] => 64 [informant] => flex4life13 [notes] => [ihome] => 0 [alanguage] => english [acomm] => 0 [haspoll] => 0 [pollID] => 0 [score] => 0 [ratings] => 0 [editpoem] => 1 [associated] => [topicname] => ambiguous )
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