1 kwietnia 2012
Harrow
Its only when my body exhausts its spirits,
am I able to define, refine and contrive my thoughts.
I’m left to ponder and conscious once more to that fact that
I lay alone
Incompletely known to confinement
The perils of this moment agonise my ease
Oh Harrow, harrow..
I wish you not to lay with me anymore.
Nor lie to me and tell me this is forever.
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