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Nov 2018
P.
I drank her in
With a cliche thirst
Desperate
I traced her ribs
Fresh ink
Our ancient tongue
And a pair of winter eyes
Answering
All my loneliness
.
The morning is hers
I dip inside
Muffled yelps and
Sleep-soaked pillows
Borrowed timeΒ Β 
Granted by
All her curiosity
.
In progress
Written by
Enoa
207
   ---, Fawn and Tara
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