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III
Poems
Sep 2014
Minch
My fingers get tangled
Between the fiery strands
Of her hair,
The strings of my heart
Restitched in cross-pattern arrays,
A web laced with black nail polish
And a deep, humbling green
That rolls through my body,
Much like the shock of chills do
When her lips brush against my own.
#love
#words
#my
#no
#shes
#oh
#begin
#can
#possibly
#unbelievable
Written by
III
Chicago
(Chicago)
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