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purple

It’s easy to forget
from within our purple imaginary
the colorless comfort
of knowing nothing beyond
and nothing above
a tragically tasteless topography.

This entry was posted on March 12, 2011 at 11:06 pm and is filed under Poetry, Sprouts. You can follow any responses to this entry through the RSS 2.0 feed. You can leave a response, or trackback from your own site.

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