unsettled

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In a dream I was on a carriage in the bare woods, waiting.  The night skimmed by, like a film, skipping.  I could feel the cold through my covers.

It's black out there, now.  Echos of an old Rolling Stones song are wavering in my head.  I'm worn before I start.

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This page contains a single entry by John published on January 13, 2009 5:29 AM.

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