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Apr 2014
i want you
to think of me when your
crooked fingers slip under the waistband
of your favorite blue jeans;

to taste me when you press your lips
against the wine bottles we once
drank from under the crystalline moon;

to bleed when you see my deepest regrets
slit poetry in words of our love
onto your skin.
Florence Woo
Written by
Florence Woo  Hong Kong
(Hong Kong)   
595
   Mary and A
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