A Novelty

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I want to read poetry written of me

My thoughts in raw, bleeding to bloom

Run my finger through the streaks of pain

to feel life surge through me

I want to taste the syllables of our first kiss

Our bodies muddled with sinful sanctity

The reality a concoction of fabricated bliss

I want to recite the whispers of ecstasy 

in script crudely falling from your lips

I want to resurrect the story that brought me

into the arms of creative justice and left 

me in fragments at the conclusion



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