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Sunny Jan 2018
my lungs are full of lilacs

light purple

how your somber eyes look amber in the sunlight

i see another slip between my fingers,

the way your hair curls when you sleep on it wet

a flash of violet that i dread

as you laugh on my shoulder

i feel blood come up too

iron burns the back of my throat,

you crack up at an inside joke and i realize this will get no better

i spit long stems of fragrant blooms and i struggle for breath

a final heave of first love

— The End —