Paul Cree
Writer and performer.Posting things of interest.
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Wednesday, 3 October 2012
At Least Your Nails Looks Nice
There's
No way in
For now
I'm
Locked out
It's cold
Until
I see
A light-bulb
Yellow the air
Through the front door
I'll sit
In The porch waiting
Measuring sucess
By the length of your arm
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