July 2012
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June 2012
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May 2012
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[oneirology]
in sleep’s quiet cradle i meet you in fields and chrome-polished diners where the clocks have stopped ticking yet i hear their echo in the room
we fall silent
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your cardigan’s frayed edges unravel in colours and sounds and your nail polish drips onto tiles too bright to look at
there’s nothing in it for you the mantra slides slippery against my tongue but the words...
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