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Sep 2013
gritty electric pulse,
trench-veins, headaches
grime and polished wood,
scuffed shoes jostling,
sweet honey whiskey, **** that
i want pain. give me burns
under my pulse and i smile
and sit
by the window,

take a cab home
in lucid stupefaction
her legs draped
on my lap,

and we laugh
and laugh and laugh
TC
Written by
TC
1.7k
   Natali Bravo
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