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Jun 2014
The air grows thick
as the last eye closes.
Amongst steady
slow breaths,
I hold mine.
You.
Me.
Finally.
****.
Here goes nothing.
Here goes every last ******* thing.
Because if there’s one thing in this life
that I know to be true,
it’s that friends make lovers
in darkened rooms.
Alex Clarke
Written by
Alex Clarke  Birmingham
(Birmingham)   
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