August 2010
											
		They will not force us. They will stop degrading us. They will not control us. We will be victorious./ Who the hell are they anyway? The ones who say tomorrow’s just another day And there are plenty
		
	
											
		This shore has rhythm. A fractal beat On surf and sand. A wave. A wave. The ding ding, the hum, This hiss and smoke from Manhattan’s mouth is loud But young. It will pass. Shore is forever. A wave. 
		
	
											
		She can't put into words Just how he made her melt He molded, folded, pasted and cut Shes edited heart was his favorite work of art And it surprised her every day They way he made her obey.  Tardis 
		
	
	
			
			
											
											
											
											
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