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a Feb 2015
through the vents i can hear
lovers spat, lovers squeal.
lovers fight, lovers heal.
through the vents i can hear
broken piece
after piece.
wicked tongue,
twisted hands,
lovers cry, because lovers
always
say
good-bye.
a Feb 2015
moon dust in your lungs
stars in your eyes
you are a child of the cosmos;
ruler of the skies
(NOT MY POEM.) via tumblr.

— The End —