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Nov 2018
Smoking out my window.
Crisp autumn breeze.
Candle barely alive.
I swear to myself.
I’ll have to let you go.
But just like the smoke I blow out.
It always comes back in.
Vanessa
Written by
Vanessa  F
(F)   
  898
     jl, redinblue, Fawn and Yann
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