you and I have history
I nary return. your jet eyes plow into cloud bursts
Tear storms, short rain, intense pain.
You cannot begin a rumor without a scandal itching
to be told.
The initial dagger, drawn lines, blood ties.
infection
snake bitten apples
snake bitten apples
Christmas Eve’s rain dear treat.
License to kill.
Permission to smile.
Just
Do
not
bite
the
bait
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