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Nov 2014
I want to softly whisper
incomplete poems
on your collar bones
that don't rhyme with anything
but your heavy breathing.

I want to bury my face
in the curves of your neck
because you smell like the winter clouds
and I've been gazing at the sky
since you left.
Written by
Emmy  chicago
         Pradip Chattopadhyay, Abby, B R, Abby, Megan and 315 others
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