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My Bell Jar
fallen from the fig tree
Friday, August 14, 2009
I am not sad.
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Better to be hated than loved for what I am not.
inside the cave
Verlaine
Paris sky
Sylvia Plath
And from that time on I bathed in the Poem
Ink
Mystery of the Romanov's
I am not sad.
Dita
you are my synesthesia embodied.
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