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Ain’t Frit
and now the voices start
those grody sounds that stop your heart
beneath the floor, within the walls
the precedent for dull footfalls
calling to us one by one
with no clear sight of saint or villain
a spectral round of hide and seek
directed by a floorboards creak
each time we search there’s nothing there
but of this guest we’re so aw...
Tuesday 21st August 2012 12:41 am
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