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Walk Through September and Make it to the Other Side
hear the sound of every rusted, blunted mace
as they greet and meet through gravity’s lack of grace,
each at thirty two point two,
the fateful rate of this heaving season
where fruits misplace a summer’s trust to kiss the dirt
and, where they fall, corrode and stall the wheels of love
for those we find untouchable
while yet our hearts may still enmesh, b...
Sunday 30th September 2012 10:27 am
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