December
Wednesday 11 November 2009 photo 1/1
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Time passes. Even when it seems impossible.
Even when each tick of the second hand aches like
the puls of blood behind a bruise.
It passes unevenly, in strange lurches and dragging lulls,
but pass it does, even for me.
Even when each tick of the second hand aches like
the puls of blood behind a bruise.
It passes unevenly, in strange lurches and dragging lulls,
but pass it does, even for me.
Annons
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