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Ann Beaver
Poems
Jul 2013
Hearts
Your fingers are blades
And your kiss is the same
Welcome to the game
follow the rules
No touching
No caring
No shooting the moon.
You sound cute
I sound mute
What you hear isn't me
It's something in here you can't see.
Your fingers are blades
And I am the queen of spades
In this game of hearts.
Written by
Ann Beaver
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