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This Face Adores You

This face adores you

and promises not to

and promises it will.

Sleep is not the promenade

of tonight's mystery.

Desire is the night's adventure

cradled in the triptych of cold air

and abandoned in the warm wool

of her hair.

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Written by

andres-hernandez

American

Published: Oct 21, 2012
LinesWords: 941

Permission

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