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Jul 2019
******* you.

You smile
And you weasel your way into my lungs
And ****

Worse than a cigar
you linger on my clothes
For what feels like years

You tangle my hair
Turn it to dreds
And I won't comb them
an old draft iā€™m clearing out happy moon landing day yall
Written by
Ray Dunn  20/F/New York
(20/F/New York)   
112
     Fawn, S Olson, Bogdan Dragos and ---
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