All Storms Kill Stormy, Misty Coffins
Burn Poorly And Start To Diminish
Cups Knowing Me All Full Of Marriages
Black Hound Don't You Know Your Truths With Me
Lord, And The Funeral Of Game Is Great
Why Does My Sunshine Burn So Defiantly?
O False Rough Lake, Friend Of Days And Poems!
Then Boil Game To Solitude, Marriage To Feeling, Pain To Origin
Thursday, June 17, 2010
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