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Sep 2011
Crème brûlée
and a clean white dress.
Feed me from your finger -
they called us Silver-Plated:

      an open locket,
      like angel wings.
      Laughter;
      the melting point of wax
      means nothing to us.
Jessie Anna H
Written by
Jessie Anna H
1.1k
   Alicia Hubert
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