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To Withstand The Force Of Storms
Your lips linger on my skin
Kiss me one last time
You're like a whisper in the winter
Sleeping in the city's skin
Remember me
Cold and concrete
You realize your deamons are real
You linger on my skin
One last time
I will whisper in the cold hands lying beneath you
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Filled with secrets
Speak in a hushed voice
Never let them hear you
Dull your words
There is no excuse for me
poem
by
Lora Cooley
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