orgami's Diaryland Diary

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destinania

beneath the day
the voice of the world
sighs

the traffic
is a reality
motion through the
seasons
in its roll

and my ghost
In passing
leaning at the wind
smiles

and I crush out
my cigarette
and feel the new
cut of the wind
like a new coat

thin and tender
its pockets of pains

and I know
I can make it

2:52 p.m. - 2013-11-15

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