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Nov 2015
My curse is

I cannot hide my eyes
from the fire in your flesh.
I wander into dreams
where shadows are your body
wind, your silhouette
my breath, your fractures.
This house tastes of old bouquets
burnt letters, tired words (gnawing),

an endless ocean,

repeating
I, too, have cracks -- 
cold and deep.
Lía Cruz
Written by
Lía Cruz  Pennsylvania, US
(Pennsylvania, US)   
460
   TT and SPT
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