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tiny poetry

poetry, but smaller.

Tuesday, April 28, 2009

at matt's request

the storm sighed;
propped its head up on the broken windowsill
and exhaled cathartic rain from its lungs

breathed in the highs from our lives
that reached apex of maelstroms so blue
they blew the desire for audacity into your eyes
Posted by subject to subjectivity at 1:51 AM

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