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wandabitch
Poems
May 2019
Church
Iβve got sun kissed skin from that
Hot *** tongue
Lick my lips like a cherry swollen and melted on the pavement floor.
Pick myself up from the strings of that guitar
My thighs are bruised with the thought of you
Played like an ***** on Sunday mornin
And I canβt read music.
Written by
wandabitch
Promethea
(Promethea)
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