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a darker shade
embraced my shadow
and sew smiles out of my lips that he hung
on my mouth like the red-white bracelets
we give each other
each March
(somewhere far away from here)

I do not write,
I am spilled out on a page
like that time I got drunk on an empty soul
and vomited behind a dozen loves
on dog-****** snow

I am faulty
for I am an inhalation of the wind
and for

I fell from

love

into him

the tip of my fingers itch
and my eyelashes quiver like images of leaves
in water

Why did he decide
to make me part of his dream?

Why did I decide that these lines
are written for him?

— The End —