Now comes the time of ice and frost
Of wind and violence.
Of slow death and muted decay.
The time of scarves and gloves
And visual voices puffing and breaking through the ice.
Frigid lips and limbs
And ringing bells calling
Among commuters.
Ignored, acknowledged, and sometimes answered.
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I feel as though if I had you here
I would have no idea
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Comments 21
Hope you feel well soon.
Yours in words,
Frank.
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How are you?
I think the idea of beauty in suffering is a horrible lie.
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I heartily apologise for your position currently and apologise for any insolence. I sincerely do extend my mind and spiriual shoulder to you as you have for me.
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We'll cuddle instead.
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What else do you like? You must keep me sane at work.
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