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Drawn down by a great weight. Hands tied on a sinking ship.
A flutter of humour in a polite exchange of conversation
A genuine question from an old friend
A frustrated cry from lungs crippled by expectation
A movement to reconcile and he’s spent
Bouts of light are the only way to separate one from the next: like shards of glass through flesh.
Eyes glazed by similar sights and silence is granted by identical sounds
Hands tied on a sinking ship; drawn down by a great weight.
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