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Monday, November 18, 2013


by ARcassin BUrnham

fishing in the pond ,
at dawn,
your eyes are drawn,
to its endeavours,
singin different songs,
turning sunlight on,
when every silence spun,
like whatever,
encore , encore,
your face i adore,
toward the river floor,
being sure of wanting more,
your memories will record,
got some room for love to store,
in an area
call tara.

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