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Eve
Poems
Mar 20
πΈοΈ
slowly, we dance
a lighter in my hands
i don't smoke
empires, reduced to stones
bludgeoning the dreams we spoke
in the last rays of roan
sliding our fingers to the ribbons
tied to our throats
convicted serenity, falsified.
tell me what you think it means
Written by
Eve
17/F/GA
(17/F/GA)
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158
Khoisan
,
Brwa S Rasheed
,
Rick
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AtticusAbbey
and
Sable Nocturne
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