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Apr 2018
Dark
(Whose solace makes from my fibers sanctuary)
Floods — asomatous noyade beginning with a drip —  the splanchnic organs
Sweet like honey drops light
From celestial bodies
Unto my parted lips, breath-warm tongue.
(still) the moon
Bending my cheek to kiss
Exhales in quiet caress
As night sinks and drifts
Dirt Witch
Written by
Dirt Witch
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