April 20, 2012
Five of eight
I am late
Pressure
Simply won't abate
The week is done
For some at least
I'm still entangled
With the beast.
I want to be alone
And in the silence feast
On the very sight
Of every grain of sand
And every bird in flight
And every passing cloud.
And where a whisper would be
Way too loud.
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mlambere
scupper
Dianne Schuch - Lindsey
Poor Woman
hilarad
skypixie0
Salon.com
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