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May 2017
give me what little
i ask.

i can pick upon the tablecloth
for the dregs:
the words cast off in forgetting glances.
to make a piecemeal love
slightly more whole.

give me what little
you think i deserve.
i can no longer fast on my hope:
so please;

give me what little love
you can spare.
no one thought this was fair
least of all
me.
Oskar Erikson
Written by
Oskar Erikson  24/M/London
(24/M/London)   
435
   Shane Lee and Jonathan
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