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jupiter has more money than god

June 14, 2010

Weeds grown too tall in front of my picture window sway and bow with the morning wind hot and sharp egging on the birds to sing louder than the one singing before it. Too many leaves on too many trees rustle and shake sounds like the ocean waves breaking on loose sand across a wide beach. I can close my eyes and feel my stomach growl and deny the passage of time wanting it to stay this way, this summer song forever.

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