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Alone on a Friday MAG
And everything is mirrors
tonight.
The sky a perfect medium of blue
darkened with navy and orange capillaries,
and the whitewashed walls
I know to be scummed by the highway
mirror the sunset.
Inflate my lungs with the edible late January air
my torso twitching with the feeling of being
whole,
like a good dream
that lasts well throughout the morning.
And there is a lump of something bittersweet;
something delicious I've missed out on
lurks back there with the other chances.
But this, too, is right, and
completes it all.
A train passes
another mirror,
and I inhale again
this unlimited resource of warmest winter.
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Favorite Quote:
"Look out, they're coming after us with big guns,
They're only gonna tell you all the bad things I've done
Even if they words they say aren't true they've won,
Now I'm left here dying in the sun..."