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Silence MAG
What used to be light and breezy, like
warm summer kisses, like cool white stones and ivy walks
Turns
its face to look at me
Turns
so I can see every freckle on its lips
and in its eyes
Turns
and grabs me with its sticky fingers
(fingers i used to adore more than yours)
They push me down in the cold
You see me scream
But your stone is pulled back by its cracks
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