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Mar 10
I fed you my ribs.
You crossed without looking.

My voice curdled to salt.
You spat. I rotted.

I placed my pulse in your palm.
The veins unraveled.

Now, I dissolve in your breathβ€”
a ghost too thin to haunt.
Brwa S Rasheed
Written by
Brwa S Rasheed  28/M/United Kingdom
(28/M/United Kingdom)   
46
   Vianne Lior
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