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Everything seeps in, everything leaks, in to this pale membrane.
The air from gestures, the pain and wicked eyes flicker.
The soft secretion of lingering sadness shelters like a veil.
Not haunted though, not lost to anything.
A door left open for a breeze to walk in.
Pale   membrane   Jamie   Barton   poetry   poem   sadness   veil   haunted   door   poetic
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