This Thing Called LOVE
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Ongoing24m
Last published Thu, Jul 23, 2015
What sort of poet would I be if I didn't talk about love? It's customary, almost. Like a rite of passage. The experience of it certainly felt like that, like crossing some kind of threshold. Things will never be the same again. Of the poems that follow, you'll find that some are just scraps of verse; fragments just like the memories themselves. I hope you'll find something of yourselves somewhere in here. :)
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