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ode to my dog

we match the colours of the universe, 

both born from the mouths of wolves, 

to lie around, get sick, rage at invasions,

raised by the same two, frightened by their abscence. 

he lies on my face and copies my heart beats, 

he wails when i wail. 

when i look at him i get a strange, sad feeling, i know how it feels to search for people.

people that will come home one day, 


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theres a strange space between me and the world. 

i feel like i could hold it if i wanted to. 

maybe i need glasses. 

my dad says i care too much about myself,

and he's right, i do. 

but its hard not to when you are so scared of dying.

theres a girl in my work who reminds me of me,

though she's timid and slight, and im harsh and stocky,

she has an odd air about her. 


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so the swan

and so the swan glides on. 

and the water molten around her. 

the carousel days wander lonely, meaningless clouds.

her neck, so slender and linen, can't turn to stare at the onwards.

at the rounding of the riverbanks, grass grows taller than time,

swaying in the cold air, breathing with the beating of her wings.

people stand on the mudded edge, cooing.

her eyes can see their w...

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