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 Apr 28 Jiro Inagawa
Grace E
I traced the texture of your words
Like my heart was blind
And your voice was braille
 Apr 28 Jiro Inagawa
lía
undress me tonight
and let your lead leave a trace
between my margins.

/•\
I want to put a spell on you
On a wishful sort of whim
Spilling all your secrets
Through the shivers on your skin

I’ve been silencing the voices
That beg to let you in
I’d rather lead the charge
On caving your walls in

And hide behind my armor
Gone rusted from the rain
A heart of stone to later atone
For any remnants of my pain

Maybe we could be magic
But in fear, I make my bed
And bury all our “could be’s”
That could fall to love instead

— The End —