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Mood: Sleepy
Drinking: Tea


beneath my eyelids
grate grains of sand.
I feel the ocean
every time I blink.
fog rolls us over
like a conquering army.
nothing will keep it
from folding us
in shivery silver.
not houses or hills
or rattling sabers.
who can resist
such an endless grey force.
who can stand
against such a solid chill.

-Lo, from Fog City

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