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Jigsaw reverie
Maybe one day
everything will click into places
until then
puzzled and broken faces
and fractured skies on carpet or hung
on walls by vapour trails
braille of the sky
that no-one can read
save Atlus
and he hardly has a hand to spare
But does he care?
Misty frames and window pains
and bellicose carpet fibres
cycling through my flip card bored
hoard for memories that aren't of
cigaromantic hazes.
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No Win No Fee
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