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5 hours ago
0 miles · Savannah
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Cold in this studio, sweet hypothermia with rigor's cummerbund. Curling around me coldly misty shadow, touching. Rising to the moonlight a little death-chilling. Laying me down in a land of dreams, spilling the skeins. Naked in my darkest dreams collabora...

In the eyes of the dark now pale of the bark to be from the leaf of old mothers death hangs from the Tupelo gathering the thorns with the last breath of Autumn falling into the shadow of the veil in the eyes of the dark

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With strings of a dulcimer shaking me a willow. with a scent that weeps the silence of it all touching the creek stones with Autumn's tomorrow shaking me a willow holding it close to the windmill of my mind in the eddies of my prose with strings of a dulc...

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I love to write when my muse listens quietly. My words at times seem confusing but there is always tomorrow. I own a small book and coffee shop that I spend time at. I detest liars and fools and those who play silly mind games. I like to talk with people who enjoy life to it's fullest.