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untitled tea-weathered book lies thumb worn; it's crimson cover bleeds without death, the bliss given to the rusty pine needle I found in my hair like some token to remind me of wind and sugar-sand sun. -Neill Torna
untitled
tea-weathered book lies thumb worn; it's crimson cover bleeds without death, the bliss given to the rusty pine needle I found in my hair like some token to remind me of wind and sugar-sand sun.
-Neill Torna
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All original material © 2001 ERIKA SALOMON ALL RIGHTS RESERVED
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