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These frozen brain waves
catching tides crystalline edges
a hard death
cold enough to absorb sweat
and tears
and years
will melt with the remembering
synapses and synopsis’ of love
on cold fronts
frontal lobes
laden with icicles
that hang like suspended drops
of undone things
which brings
us cold on cold
together
on thoughts
of melting
layers
Gerald the Writer 
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