I fall upon the quilted folds all muddled, twisted, juxtaposed~ the black of night, a hug, morose, with sentiment of sordid roles that once upon a time would float, these memories, in dreams, like boats across the waves of flavored cotton candy skies upside down and side by side as thunder cracks and lightning strikes and wakes me, thrashing, from the sight only to embrace the night.
burrito sama Community Member 
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