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a slim glass sliding down through the soft glove that it seems to just perfectly fit, as stains gently whisp away to air fresher than the cleanest ocean.  almost as wind slapped against my face like a pale hand leaving 5 fingerprints on my cheek, but in a way that's more beautiful yet accepting.

with lipstick smearing faster than fingers drawing over a wet oil painting.  and passing more liquid than the salt infested waterfalls that drip from my eyes,  or yet even a more beautiful sound than a babies first laugh at a small game of peek-a-boo.

//tHANKCYOUSOFUXKONGN MUCH FOR 1K I LPVE YOU IALL SO MUCH FUCK

POETRYDonde viven las historias. Descúbrelo ahora