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Dec 2012
there, the long eyelashes

dead in my hands,
oh god, they are dead in my hands
cannot even flutter anymore

but they are wet and they reek
of the bottle caps placed

between my bed and bed sheets
there, the long eyelashes
are weeping

only alive when I am happy
you left, something fled from me
Sarina
Written by
Sarina  forests
(forests)   
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