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extrication

  • and i move through this masquerade

    Twirling we fall into ribbons of midnight gold my head spins but i twist and weave--- anonymity lies in the glittering obscurity of our faces Our rippled reflections will tell ...

    • Poetry
    • Dramatic
    1 min read


FRIED FISH ON A FALAFEL
— hop (TheHoplessRomantic)