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janel aira
Poems
Mar 2020
Rock, paper, scissors
Short bus trips going home
Quick glances in your eyes that glow
You reflect through the glass window
We’re still on the road but I feel home
If only our eyes could speak
Words would hide and hearts would seek
Not taking the risk to fall for it
Would be my greatest what if
Rock, paper, scissors
You’re a book of stories untold
Rock, paper, scissors
It’s your hands I want to hold
Written by
janel aira
22/F/ph
(22/F/ph)
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