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- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - 2009-08-06 | [This text should be read in english] | Submited by jkloungsuh
Broad sun-stoned beaches.
White heat. A green river. A bridge, scorched yellow palms from the summer-sleeping house drowsing through August. Days I have held, days I have lost, days that outgrow, like daughters, my harbouring arms.
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