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Pro·tu·ber·ance… because you live in a flowerpot of dreams

Excerpt:

I’m filled with bye-bye nostalgia, a train whistle hollers along the slumbering harbor, sea-birds squawking a long way off. . . submersions of thought, a tavern murmurs have a beer. . . holding the wind, twisting neon of want.

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Description

27 Lines   Written Aug 13, 2014

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