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Tuesday, February 10, 2015

Muse

A slight touch
Ends of fingers meeting
The tilt in my body
The shift in your eyes
A hunger so angry
We were both blinded.

A blink.

Open.

"Don't smile."

But I do, inside.
And as the false maiden looks solemn
Such is my chaos.



Paint me in the colors of your perfection.



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