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Mar 20
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
Eve
Written by
Eve  17/F/GA
(17/F/GA)   
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