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May 2018
Your silver tinsel smile
Warm breath against my neck
Lips parted and I can almost taste you
Bubbles line champagne glasses
Their edges soft as skin
The needle work
Your fingertips sew
Against my arm
Like rain drops on
A golden window pane
And a dull heart ache
At the bottom of my stomach
Pulling me under
Written by
Arke  30
(30)   
198
     Schuy and Carter Carter
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