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FROM THE MULTI-POLAR MIND OF A RECOVERING EX-USER

not poetry, not purposeful, not pretending









...

Sunday, 5 December 2010

Unzipping

Something's coming
My head's humming
I smell strange scents on the breeze
You keep squawking
Lips keep talking
My eyes stare and your words tease.

Sad hands fumbling
Mad thoughts crumbling
I taste midnight in the air
Feet start tripping
Head's unzipping
My light shines and you are there.

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