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starch

in the subtle sudden;  
of slow-roasted instantaneous,  
the crease in the captains seat  
becomes the opposite of its used-to  
 
no longer, the inspired comfort  
of deeptissue escape  
 
the unasked for  
insistence on,  
aphrodisiac  
 
and  
 
poison.  
 
The seat still sits  
the funeral procession  
 
but without the jubilee,  
who's absence  
is ironically  
 
also the antidote.
Written by lightbaron
Published | Edited 24th Mar 2013
All writing remains the property of the author. Don't use it for any purpose without their permission.
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