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Parker
Poems
Jan 29
your side of the bed grows colder with each passing minute
its gotten colder,
the days are shorter,
my breath hangs in the air.
my skin has become dry and fragile.
my voice is weak and raspy.
its gotten colder here,
not because of the bite of january.
or because of the chill brought south.
but because you left.
again.
Written by
Parker
19/Trans/The stars
(19/Trans/The stars)
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