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- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - 2012-11-08 | |
back in those days, November was blowing wildly
my thoughts were racing towards you pulling out the electric pillars and the no-overtaking signs books that I've read, smiles that I've given, all were inconsistent - like translucent fingers in the sun. my reality was a network made up of all the words you said but especially of all those words left unsaid I remember now - the green waters of your eyes flooding my emotions shaping our motions you used to program my dreams using advanced computing systems so that every night I dreamt music I dreamt you stereo then tunes turned into colors - colors melted into lyrics - lyrics that I'm writing as you whisper in my ear: It is a dream. It is a dream.
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