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Nov 2015
when your cold
fingers get the
chance, let their
haunting abilities
of ink dance
across the fine
white of paper
and choreograph
what it's like
to dance in
the vast nothingness
of an inevitability
you were too
curious to prolong.
I hope you'll still love me in the afterlife.
Lakin
Written by
Lakin  25/where flowers grow
(25/where flowers grow)   
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