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Flaws
Poems
Aug 2015
In her room (rough draft)
Jet engines howl like some sonic yawn int the sky
And I am in the quarters of my love
She drapes dresses red and black over her skin
Disguising the marks we've made on such foul impulse
Though she holds no regret
Strong in her mistakes, in her victories
Unlike me
And that's all I need
Relief shrieking godlike through the sky
Like some sonic yawn
Written by
Flaws
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