I stumble in here half dressed ragged, and out of breath. A plan is essential but I have lost my timer. Some sweet sense of an idea had a grip on me But I lost her struggling with the computer. It is enough to well consider a fountain pen and notebook… Mine all mine I am yelling even as I see the ball popping straight into the middle of the sun. And already I know that that is where it will fall like a jagged burning ball of light Into a tiny glove that no man could hold on to.
Posted on: Mon, 15 Jul 2013 16:34:31 +0000
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