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arcane
Poems
Jul 2016
(2)
THE SMALL OF MY BACK YEARNS FOR YOUR TOUCH, MY HANDS CRAVE TO TOUCH YOUR HAIR, BUT I CAN'T SEEM TO SHAKE THE IDEA THAT YOU'RE A DISTANT GHOST AND I CAN'T GET OUT OF THIS FOG
can you take the gun away from my temples?
Written by
arcane
california
(california)
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