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A Lifetime Of Nights In A Welsh Town
Asleep beneath a sodium tongue,
Damp synthetic fire-licked stone,
Fake stone,
Hand made stone,
Carpeting ugly and commodious city streets,
Voices of young men,
Smoke filled lungs and wide wild eyes,
Sanguine chatter-boxes,
Impatiently idea making,
Dreaming, cold-air-breathing, nights on end without closed eyes,
Hearts open,
Some happy numbness in the fingers and toes,
All may rest ...
Wednesday 6th January 2016 11:56 pm
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