THOSE WHO SUFFER LOVE

03.04.11 . 7:34 pm

In a flat in East London, the sun shines through dirty windows past the washing hanging on the line. Steam from the unwashed mugs of tea mixes with the smoke from three cigarettes and I sink lower into the couch and I sigh.

I'm too tied up in you, it all feels like you, I speak your name a thousand times

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