2009-10-03 - 4:43 p.m.
everything was beautiful and nothing hurt or everything was muddy and nothing worked flashes and slashes in pots and pans ruddy little fingers at the end of our hands blood and guts and guts and blood mixes with wine in the tumbling mud and all our houses and all our fears get buried at last as dreaming nears what wonders arise, when rising wonders what great ships sink by the weight of their plunders and all our thoughts for the narrowing straits gather at shores where true love waits everything was beautiful and nothing hurt grasping hands meet down in the dirt and all our houses and all our fears wait with a whisper at the end of years
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