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Jun 2016
Sin
Let me live in my sin
It's.mine.
Like when you remove your glove, finger by finger, plucking the tips with a pull. Freeing each finger until all are freed. Pulling  your hand out, cupping glove to glove and laying them on that end table you love. The one with the lamp that appeared when your Mom died. The only thing you got from her because you hated her.
Kayla Manor
Written by
Kayla Manor
276
 
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