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Jul 2010
The effect of you was that
I could not say three words
or breathe enough. At
once, I was two-thirds
of you and you of me.
Our closeness let lust flow
a madness through, gently
red as running veins (though
further it felt like fire). So this
I was, skin on fat on dust
of bone – as life consists
of being only almost just
from you, the effect of
leaving was all of the above.
Written by
Liz B
531
     D Conors
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