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Welcome ! | Home · FAQ · Topics · Web Links · Your Account · Submit Poetry · Top 30 · OldSite Link | 02-June 22:17:09 AEST | ||
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Array
(
[sid] => 123035
[catid] => 1
[aid] => mick
[title] => A dry throat (burn and flow)
[time] => 2006-07-11 15:14:46
[hometext] => A five minute blurp for you ^_^ always, abraham
[bodytext] => Sixteen hundred and forty-three miles away, the day is a dry throat. Here, it is a cough, or a splutter of sound sloshing beneath the façade of hesitation. Here, I am lost in reflection; here, I am sixteen hundred and forty-three miles away, nineteen years old and afraid to go on. Now I am here, twenty-five years old, afraid to go on, lost in the pleasures of my past. I was a fire then, an incongruous flame eating away at itself, until finally the fires settled; lost strength; smoldered; became null and cold in the dry, brazen heat of an Arizona sky. Now, I am without fire or flame. Now I am raging water, now I am a river ran through the concrete dusts of my love. I have known so many lives. I have laughed with, cried with, fought with, and died with so many people, so many forgotten empty lives. It is in me to say that the whole of the fire and the whole of the rain tread their ways alone; but in my heart, they burn and flow together. [comments] => 1 [counter] => 329 [topic] => 44 [informant] => iodinelove [notes] => [ihome] => 0 [alanguage] => english [acomm] => 0 [haspoll] => 0 [pollID] => 0 [score] => 0 [ratings] => 0 [editpoem] => 1 [associated] => [topicname] => Nostalgic )
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