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May 2017
there was a delicate way his tongue touched the roof of his mouth when he spoke
and there was a deep earthy shade of brown in his eyes
and there was serenity in the way his fingers loved the piano

but he spit venom as he spoke of lies and pity
and the earth shook with rage and bitternessΒ Β 
and his fingers clawed right across my back
that I will now bleed the brightest of reds and heal with ease
gabriela
Written by
gabriela
264
   Glass
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