a kohl-lined (and eucalytpus) memoir

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cyclical questions
and
bleeding sands
and
prickly memories
bound into leather
flip open to a page
and run a finger down my spine
kiss the cover
with your perfect lips
and close your turquoise eyelids
soon you'll forget about us
but remember
the ecstasy.

the ecstasy of
being held
like this.

like we're more than
papyrus and ink.

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