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Sep 2015
**** getting kisses for breakfast,
I want them for lunch and tea.
I don’t ever want you,
To have to miss me,
Because that means that I’ve left you,
If I’ve left you then you’re alone,
And that’s not what I want,
My lost pebble in the foam,
                                                       I want sunshine.
I want cold smarting my nostrils,
And setting it’s embers alight,
Deep in my chest.
I want to be under a string of stars
That glow
To the pulse of my heartbeat,
From thousands of years ago.
I want nettle stings on my thighs,
I want mud on my hands
I want you to look at me always in that way
when you brushed off the ***** bloodied sand.


                                     I never washed my shoes after that.
Grace Radford
Written by
Grace Radford  Bristol
(Bristol)   
583
 
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