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Erin
Poems
Mar 2014
Memories of you
It's three in the morning
and your fingers run down my crooked spine
in the darkness.
It's three in the morning
and we are both breathing heavily
our bodies pressed as one.
It's three in the morning
and you tell me that you love me
and I smile in my sleep.
It's three in the morning
and it's pouring rain outside
while we sip coffee by candlelight.
It's three in the morning
and you are no longer here
so I take another drink of *****.
Written by
Erin
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Lilith Reid Brown
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Sammi
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Catrina Sparrow
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