i forged the lyrics on the imprints of your palms
bleeding purple ink into
the permanent possession of your veins;
for every treasured embrace of the
lines of my face
were spindle-spun into the crevice of your smile.
i would have stolen those corners,
sinking my pressed kisses into your fingers;
a woven note to remember me by,
& crooks of you i could hold on to
maybe,
the falsities in your forever's could
grow stems of longing;
blooming orchids in your field of roses
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