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Sep 2010
I am not those lips that
                  drink death
                   I am the constellation
                    of a sky full of black birds
                    only solitude is real;
                               when the claws that
                                 rip and tear
                                 cannot get past the locked door
                     until I am ready to wear the mask again
Written by
christopher crow
539
     S Smoothie and D Conors
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