Bodies sprawled out
like sloppy cursive words -
forgotten like memories
I see you with
your wild, wind tossed eyes,
made rough like your shoulders...
Molded from nothing
but pure hope
and the warm embrace
of a clear night.
~ . ~ . ~ . ~ . ~ . ~ . ~
You're wrong again
She's untitled - unfinished
so cliche', completely
unoriginal
another uneventful August
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