I gathered it about me,
in long folds. Wrapped
myself in your indifference,
a cold cloak, kept me
aloof and untouchable,
alone and untouched.
Hooded, I wandered
through teeming streets
through the faceless crowds.
Only you can make so desolate
such an inhabited place.
I sought you in the hidden places
and called for you.
My cry echoed in
the distance you created.
Damn this cold
It cuts to the bone
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nedful thingsThere are things that we need and things that are Ned. Nedfulthings: a collection of labyrinthine conversations and a fistful of dreams...WidgetBucks - Trend Watch - WidgetBucks.com
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I Wore This For You
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The Poet is like an onion - because when you cut him, he makes you cry.
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