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soft
Tonight was full of pale questions
Sparkler trails
An acoustic strum
We lay on the bonnet of your car
Like they did in the eighties
And spoke to God
The heat of the engine
The chill of the night
The warmth of the memories
You had left the tape deck playing
The Kronos Quartet were on fine form
Endless symphonic epiphanies
You looked like a God...
Sunday 13th September 2015 10:36 am
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