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Mar 2012
home
is where I felt with you
laying on the pointed grass
watching the clouds form to our thoughts
of eachother
and how the sun
reached out and touched your skin
because he wanted
a part of you
like I had a part of you
like the way your laugh
would echo
in the mountains of
my mind
for days
repeating endlessly
like the sun-kissed freckles
on your face that gave you that
twist of innocence
that you rarely showed
to the world
of people
who all held daggers
beneath you like
blades of grass
waiting
for a shift in weight
Written by
Sydney Jeanne
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