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Wincing And Grateful
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by Adam Pomajzl
you think it's madness,
uncontrollable
tangents,
like desperate offerings.
I feel quite
the opposite,
warm and comfortable
with the illusion.
because
everything fades
or
runs out eventually,
but
the important thing
is quality,
substance,
like this
warm cup of boarding house
coffee,
staring out the window,
in
search of something
closer to a payment
rather
than a solution.
sleep haze conversations.
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Adam Pomajzl
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