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cameran
Poems
Mar 2014
pyro-love
As his warm hand met mine,
we sparked a fire to keep warm.
That fire gasped for air,
and grew twice in size,
until it consumed our hearts,
and our minds.
We were no longer a spark,
but instead a colossal wildfire.
"I'm not a pyromaniac, just a hopeless romantic."
Written by
cameran
F
(F)
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