orgami's diary

orgami's Diaryland Diary

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THASHER

slush and such
the streets are wound with trails
the hissing stale of passing
vehicular stasis

there are clouds clotted in the
windows looking back
time eases itself along like
the black birds scrounging

and I am awake in a dream
lost in a cough of thought
held by fascination
and loss

1:18 p.m. - 2012-01-10

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