soulcruzer.com
In search of the good, the true, and the beautiful
every now and then i fallapart at the seams, it seems only held together bythe promise of a new day and the words i want…
so i lay thereplaying with splintersin the late afternoon the angels of paradise,hidden in the mysteryof my days leaningon worn-out wings, sang to me sticks…
Copyright Clay Lowe
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