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a finite beauty;
youth is giving way.
the diaphanous spirit
does not remain
naive, tender, passionate.
Time erases the smiles
and etches a crease between the brow.
The exhilarating twinkle in the unbeknown eye
is now gone.

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Photographs, Poetry, Writing

Annica

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A bed unmade inside a cluttered room holds a messy mind

                         & the overtime work of

——————> manufactured defeat

                                               has a finger pointing in its direction.

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Poetry, Writing

Self Defeat

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