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Aug 2017
one more time, she whispers,
she whispers violently, tremulously, like an addict whispers
to the fingernail marks in her skin, like persephone whispers to pomegranate seeds, like sin, and her whispers collect on dollar bills in the wind, and the money flies home but she's still sitting in that bin,

wondering if Hades ever regretted his win
Written by
avalon  19/F
         Tia Imani Rose, BL, Day, ---, The Dedpoet and 9 others
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