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Jul 2010
Our skin is ripped
Torn apart by our own hands
There’s too much ache
Love is disgusting
Fingers are ***** if they’re not yours

And your fingers are transparent
And I fall through them
I fall into them
In an unknown dark
In an exotic fire

Further
Every night
When you are absent, but you are here
You pull me next to your body
Inconsistently and soft
The way I want it

Because you are in my mind
You flux through my bloodstream
You ride through my neural network
Without final destination and without the ticket
Stowaway in my body
Always
This is a translation of a poem that I originally wrote in Croatish.
Written by
Katarina Arno
762
     D Conors and PK Wakefield
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