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Sunday, January 22, 2006

I'm going down to the hollow where the trees meet the soul;
I'm trying not to follow another long, twined and lonely road.
My knees are wounded and my heart's panged.

I've drifted from my admist.
Now, I'm six feet under.

With ethereal footsteps and masked fingerprints; I'm impalpable.
musical carousels 6:41 PM

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