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typhany
Poems
Nov 2015
i said i'd never write a happy poem about love but here i am
the holy books say polyester is bad
but the falsified material felt warm
in the cold of the reaper's air
my veins didn't ache like they used to
instead, they rushed warm
even on nights spent asleep in metal boxes
i don't know how we slept
yet, something about your arms
brought a sense of lingering calm
old ish
Written by
typhany
here and now
(here and now)
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