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Grace
Poems
Jan 2017
She
she makes me
soar
like a science-fair soda rocket, the tails of children's screaming glee
she makes me
fly
on wings of kites, that stream back in nylon ribbons to loving hands
she makes me
burn
the white ash on dewy green grass, new July morning
she makes me
fall
landing on pillows, laughing into soft sheets so obscenely wrinkled-
she makes me
crave
sweater dipping low on her shoulder, smiling up, the way she whispers between our lips:
you make me.
#love
#ldr
Written by
Grace
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Hannah Beasley
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