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look how your name made me dream – of mirrored courtyards and paper cut feet – this city spread on seven hills, and midnight flowers open up their lips, breath sweetly in your face air, hovering above the dazed commuters. and who am I to claim innocence standing on poorly tarmacked road and hands smelling of fish and cheap alcohol, wondering how the moon, heavy-lidded and pregnant, would sit on your side of the bed trying to gulp down nausea? |
Thought provoking images. Lloyd | Posted on 2017-04-27 00:00:00 | by Blue Monk | [ Reply to This ] | |