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Mar 05, 2007 02:21



The train went by and Spring had appeared for the afternoon.
Clément and I sat outside Olivier’s place, waiting for him to come home.
He pulled a beer out of his backpack for us to share.
We were feeling good.
Everywhere smelled like light and Saturday.
Olivier showed up looking like an old legend.
He ( Read more... )

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airegrowswings March 5 2007, 18:35:30 UTC
this is much better than what would be the description of my saturday, although i now think i should also possibly write a poem or sorts about that...

i like that you really run into some of the idiosyncracies that i would otherwise dream up. and describe them this way.

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loolawhodda March 7 2007, 04:50:58 UTC
"Everywhere smelled like light"

Usually I don't really relate to synesthesia, but I can fully sense the smell of light in the context of this poem. I think it's the smell of unshuttering a victorian attic in mid-spring.

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