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Yellow car : Red CarDriver;
Family on Board.
“Oh go on then..”
“Just one more..”
Blame.It's my fault.
That my waistline remains at thirty-two inches;
In bare-feet I will only ever reach your chin,
That i have hard working hands and artists eyes.
The curves of an hourglass,
And the ruined joints of a former runner.
Teamed with the bespectacled face of a librarian
Struggling lungs and lover's heart-
And crazy-cat-lady potential-
Refusing to colour my hair russet
Choosing to collect more body art.
More studs, more rings, more corsets,
A mix and match of grunge and rock;
Nirvana sang 'All Apologies'
Buckcherry sang 'Sorry'
And I lament just a little,
I'm still who I was when you fell for me-
But I'm finding myself taking the blame for that.
It's my fault
That you're now so different.
Those Were the DaysVera’s car was there, no others, and Bert gave thanks for that. He saw her pressed against the driver’s seat of her minivan, the one they used to share, and remembered the day at the dealership fondly. She was pregnant with their first child and the dealer had rambled about the safety of the babe, as if they didn’t already know this. Bert shook his head and stumbled towards the vehicle, immediately regretting dragging her from bed this late.
When he slid inside the red van, Vera said nothing. They sat there in the deserted parking lot and listened to the humming of the motor. Finally, she glanced at him sideways, frustratio
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`anmari has been spreading her infectious positivity throughout our community for over 6 years. Throughout this time Ana has been at the core of all things devious, passionately developing an eclectic gallery, helping organise devmeets, participating in chat events and also recently completed dedicating her time as a Community Volunteer. We are absolutely delighted to bestow the Deviousness Award for May 2013 to `anmari, congratulations! Read More