Salty Pillows

May 20, 2010
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Salty pillows my head lays under,
restless nights and churning thunder
but the season will flow from the mountains to my sea
though you’re now recklessly detached from me
but the season will flow
if not from different arms,
and different armor
I will sleep soundlessly again
if not from different dreams,
and different faces
And aren’t you to stay,
even just one more, fleeting day
And aren’t you to be always
Well you were, you were, you were

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