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Poetic T Mar 2020
I want the kiss,


                      but the venom

you craved, dam I'm addictive...

And when we French kissed it wasn't

            the beauty you wanted..

But the thrill of the poison passing

thorough the movements of your exhilaration...

I died every time you kissed me..

but when your palms touched

                  upon my face...

I was revived...

Your my sarcophagus of resurrection..

And every time I open my eyes,

I say


               "I love you now more then my last breath,

— The End —