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Aug 2013
You have no concept
Of how I cling to the brief fragments
The tiny motes of times
Like dust
They are barely
Discernible
I long for you
The texture of your tongue
On my skin
Your palms in mine
Panting
I'm in love with a ghost
danielle m
Written by
danielle m  in my head
(in my head)   
503
   maybella snow
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