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May 2018
bullets gathered in commune;
rallied with the spirit of fate
at the nose, rest the breath to come
as my touch gives you strength to escape

to ash the skull will turn
from the flustered blush; to a berry plucked
after all the thoughts it has lured
mourns the abscesses of something more
i'm still alive after last week.
Written by
ayd  M
(M)   
173
 
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