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Tuesday, February 19, 2008

the oxidation of Joan of Arc.

the mind drinks less and less.
impatience.
highways full of crowds going somewhere, somewhere, somewhere, nowhere.
The gasoline refugee.
Towns turn into motels,
people in nomadic surges from place to place,
following the moon tides,
living tonight in the room where you slept this noon and I the night before.
Posted by xo at 12:31 AM
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Terrible Fragments of Beautiful Dreams

Terrible Fragments of Beautiful Dreams

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