January 24, 2011
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Balmy night
steam-softened skin,
in echoes of refined quartz and
liquid explosions.

Bleached nostalgia,
erodes and dissolves
into present-tense
It trickles quietly
into indigo, lapping
over padding, pleasant soles.

And blowing
tranquilly wafting through the air,
We exist momentarily
in distant silence.

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