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Rated: 13+ · Poetry · Writing · #1099086
about a guy, my teacher didn't like this
Flying the highest high
couldn’t tell you why
but I feel you
deep
within me

falling towards a sea of grey:
your eyes
your lips, the ocean spray
soft as rain again
drawing love
with the darkest crayon

crooked white fence
try to repeat your intense
words of wisdom
for those without the patience
to hear them

voices just a whisper
instrumental to infer
the compatibility
of passion
and loved ones

and I’ll hold your hand
tracks in the sand
leading me
leading you
and we are liberated


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