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Friday, 2 December 2016

Some Assembly

They move towards a new 
themselves, plugged
into a shining romantic 
grey-black surface, 
reflecting two 
skintight legs & there's 
a smoothly passing 
hiss of bulbous shadow and 
bright edge. They ache slightly 
to be at the forefront of a past,
of lights in a wet city that echoes
with a cold, night, satisfaction,
and they may get some faint
tremor of that kind, maybe, 
across a perimeter and through 
a forgetful burial in necessity
and information as they 
move towards a new themselves. 

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