A Beautiful Sedative
By Clean Serene
Closing too fast, weary, they crash. Clash... Splintering dreams- like paint from a gun... Slowly binding, yet coming undone. Spin drifting sideways, noxious control. Dancing fandango- fawning my soul. Falling before you, captured mid-air. No longer spinning, you've calmed my despair. Written January 19th, 2002 © on Jan 19 2002 12:42 PM PST 0 • 16
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"Closing too fast,..."