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Friday 12 August 2016

Monday

I have a night-light, to share the high-life ethereally with you
Through the skylight, the twilight of stars burn themselves blue

It is absolutely true, that in the swan-song, of our fabulous years
Smiles replace frowns, making us downright free of our fears

With clear paper and pen, and the now and the then, and with zen
We appear set for the journey; with tourniquets behind to impress those dear

Nearby, the Egyptian Cotton, begotten of toil and strife
Laid to rest out a life, our celebrations are denied of all but love


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