Drunken by its fallacy, my feet step in secrecy.
While my hands do the trifling, never ending is the tripping.
And again my soul is bound; right on this tiny circle, keep round and round.
5th July, 2013
A very not good moment which is stored in memory
Ready to archive and be filed in the deepest and sincerest locker;
under the bed of honesty
under the bed of honesty
Yet, ready to ignite and be scattered all over the place;
under the symphony of a tripping malady
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