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Jan 2022
i love you rests at the tip of my tongue
at the edge of my lips
swallowed back
into the hollow cavity
so low
get high solo
never allow the sorrow
don't cry until tomorrow
every day
quiet.
the chatter stops
the words dance on my tongue
still twirling, swirling
a tornado of uncertainty
as the syllables threaten to blow away
from my mouth into open space
3/3/21
Written by
Lucy S Draper  23/F
(23/F)   
103
   Terence Chinnery
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