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May 2017
She is my smoke,
My lovely elusive clouds.
She smells like hemp and woman.
Her fingers swirl, her hair curls like tendrils of smoke.
I am too mesmerized by her beauty to be terrified of
how temporary she is;
How soon she'll disappear, leaving me grasping for something that was hardly ever there in the first place.
Written by
Lexi Cozart  16/F/Wenatchee, Washington
(16/F/Wenatchee, Washington)   
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