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Mar 2018
When my skin no longer
Prickles at the blow of cool air
Or the butterflies that ignite
Every time I see you
Die
Or when the moon
Has traded places with the stars
Or when my body becomes a casket
For all of your grievances
I hope you know that as all things die
So has our love
Kirsten Claire
Written by
Kirsten Claire  19/F/Utah
(19/F/Utah)   
135
     i bleed poetry and ---
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