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Dec 2019
Crimson God of love, tanning in the pale Moonlight, made my mind split asunder, when you and I locked eyes.

Doomed was I just then, writing love letters hastily with my pen, surrendering to the divinity whose lips tasted like the wine of ancient rome, and whose flowered ribcage became my very home.
Quite frankly I'm very new to the rhyming in regards to my poetry, but I'm not too mad about it. Yet.
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