Monday, March 24, 2014


There is a beach house in my dreams
riddled with dusty things
on the walls lives a whole history
my collection of memories

The edge of the universe, I have seen
there was nothing there for me
just a grip of complex patterns
I laughed until I cried

Today the fifth year continues
soon coming to an end
I have taken on the task
of letting everything go

it runs on frayed tattered edge

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