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Irene
Poems
Jul 2018
Second Love / Midsummer
Your bright, round almond
eyes and spider legs;
divine bones, lined up, perfect
for a tongue to run along.
I wrap myself in
your sweet scent; I smell my hands
to find sick comfort in
your absence.
If those branches were to
once more entangle mine,
should I never let you go,
caressing with kisses,
telling you what a daydream you are.
Written by
Irene
23/F/USA
(23/F/USA)
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