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Jun 2017
My nails marked constellations,
rosé stars glistening on the yellow sky.

The deepest mark guides my frail bones,
weeping cherry wine across the heavens.

Let the crimson moons dangle on my skin,
painting my body with that scarlet lipstick.

Accent my amber stomach with shadows of my ribs,
lined up like the stormy clouds above my teeth.

I hold these flaws in my callused hands,
bury them deep in the veins that strangle my heart...

They keep my rusty lungs singing.
sorta unfinished (but oh well)
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