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Blow

incredibly potent female

who’s face is the shape of my empty heart

your empty eyes, sit beside my collar bone

your rich fingers like black crows along my hip

calmly shaped gestures shriek madness

into the night where black haired women

fall in love with the beasts inside

feverish, bitter alcoholic tongues

 

stand beside each other like two trees

growing in the same forest

re-living those shooting stars

that were never seen

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Written by
midnight-prague
Greek
Published
Aug 16, 2011
Lines·Words
12·72
Permission

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