The cold wraps, long, sad blanket, an echo of ghost-water in a one-woman little waltz on home to you, where 3 a.m. tucks me to your bones.
Tuesday, June 1, 2010
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The cold wraps, long, sad blanket, an echo of ghost-water in a one-woman little waltz on home to you, where 3 a.m. tucks me to your bones.
Posted by John D. at 9:04 PM
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