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Mar 2010
The sweet smell of raisins
fresh from the pack.
A lit cherry is a beating heart.
The wet end is as good
as kissed lips.
It makes my legs loose and
trembly like love.
Leaves me breathless and
achy.
Smoking scares you.
I smoke for inspiration,
the pains remind me I am alive,
and I'm not suppose to live forever.
copyright
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