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Katarina May 2017
Lace my waist
Until I can no longer breathe
My sweet darling
Your fevered skin burns
As sweet as the most sickly candy

And I hold my bones

And you softly, gently,
**** me a little more
Each time that your ***** blue lips
Graze my porcelain skin
And you stop breathing

Just for a while

And the snow drips in my throat
Even then,
I feel nothing.
Your narcotic dove, a hand on her neck
And her soul remains

Empty

— The End —