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skin on the line
washing day: the bimonthly emptying of pockets- warm swells of detergent- Sweet steam room damp.
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i’ve never liked summer
When it is empty again And the summer sun looms, Gloomy and oppressive, Promise to wait.
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South
Welcome to London. That’s all I keep thinking as I hammer my finger into the pedestrian crossing button.
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East
In the distance, the breakwaters surface irregularly. The intervals come and go; small shoals dashing to the surface.
