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Lvice
Poems
Jul 2017
Ihre Hände halten Herzschmerz
Do your hands
always smell like ink?
Do they always
hold what made them leave?
He used to call her a sunset in the summer
he no longer knows her.
And he, was just
Some guy from Minnesota.
Written by
Lvice
16/Following the bees
(16/Following the bees)
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