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Dec 2018
you're wearing
bright red lipstick
and a little black
dress but you
are a mess and you
can't even give the
taxi the right address.
You smell of cinnamon
and sugar mixed with
marijuana and when
you laugh I can see
the fillings in the
back of your mouth
and I resist the urge
to touch your cheek
and feel the curves
of your body beneath
your clothes.
I can taste smoke
at the back of
your throat
and I remember the
way you once wrote.
I think maybe
I'll love you
until this *******
has left my veins.
What was your
name again?
Written by
call me kiwifruit  21/F
(21/F)   
921
 
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