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Sep 2021
He makes me want to write
As fast as my fingers can produce the
Sweet caramel lava oozing
Dip my quill in his laughter
The way he tells a joke
The way he made me feel
That in an instant I had woke

I carve him into all my blank pages
Splash his spirit
Encrypting his words
So they won’t evaporate
so quickly
ink pen swimming in his silliness
The way he looked at me
The time we tripped on acid
And just gazed out at the sea
Written by
La Nómada  32/F/Shambala
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