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Marie-Niege
Poems
Apr 2014
Exist.
I
am
only
a
fact
when
my
existence
hums
beneath
the
felt tip
of your
fingers,
your hands
lingering
above
my
chestnut
skin,
have
I
become
a
fact
of
life?
I only
come
into
existence
when
you've
made
me a
fact
of
your
life.
I pictured him of me.
Written by
Marie-Niege
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