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Feb 2020
Comes his waking breath
against my pinched face
in the early morning hour
of our lofty, soft embrace.
He pulls the sheets like the tide
of a sad twinkling moon,
making sure to hold me warm,
so that I won't leave so soon.
Acina Joy
Written by
Acina Joy  17/F/On earth, not Mars
(17/F/On earth, not Mars)   
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