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Mar 2015
I shake this glass as if the motions will bring you back one day. Liqueur slips through my grasp and tequila tumbles down my throat; I can tell you absinthe tastes like liquorice but it is ***** that shoots my highs to heaven. We chase liquids in place of light, but I wonder if it is these trembling hands and the fever bright fog that consumes my mind that makes it all the more harder to let go.

(A.H.Z)
anneka
Written by
anneka
515
   ---, Pax and AFJ
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