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Mar 2013
Your eyes **** me.
I am dead: I put dirt in my hair
now it lives where I do,
in owl bites.
I can retell the memory of
your body crying
to resurrect my dusty corners –
bent over, tangled in candy
floss I am shivering
we are in a war.
Your movements **** me, too.
Sarina
Written by
Sarina  forests
(forests)   
2.3k
   vircapio gale, --- and JM
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