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A czarina sits a-throne Atop my desk. Silent yet her scent Screams sweetly. Bursting sun, her skin Little bruises and spots, Perfectly imperfect. Sap, dried, kisses skin, Smooth, smoothie. Water and ice, await you While I, await none.

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Written by

bryan-amerila

For You?

Written by

bryan-amerila

Published

May 29, 2016

Time

1m

Notes: poem poetry

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