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jan 6th 2003

by Richard Trotter

Your words are a wonderful breakdown
a gap in a ceaseless production line
though time is a tangled ball of wool
wound round the temple in the city of cat.

I'm scythed by the rocks of the day
and distorted by the helix of instants
I am a field thats burned by the moon,
with you as the seeds of friendship

whatever the size of tomorrow's mountain.

12/30/2003

Posted on 12/30/2003
Copyright © 2024 Richard Trotter

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