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Oct 2020
I want my love to be a warm blanket on a cold day
A gentle candle in the dark
A mug of cocoa with marshmallows floating in it
But instead it was a straitjacket that bound you
A stick of dynamite that blew off our fingers
A draught of poison that numbed our senses

We were gripping the knife's blade, and the tighter I held,
The deeper it cut.
That's not where you're supposed to hold it.
  150
     J J, Carrie Crusoe and Weeping willow
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