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by
Eliot
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Poems
Nov 2018
seasons
we were fire
burning up just like the feeling your touch gave me
we were death valley
and then
we were warm
the kind of warm from a funfair hot chocolate
we werenβt just lust anymore
and now
we are cold
the cold from bitter winds in december
we are ice on the road
but
the coldest of weathers will warm
maybe they just need some time
maybe we just need some time
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