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Crywank
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An Intimate Message
Throwing caution to the CPU fan,
I gave you the wardrobe you asked for.
Wide eyed you mortified me,
devistatingly perfect a beating of sorts.
If I become nostalgia, you'll always love me more.
It snowed today, triple layers and mittens,
three inches on the fencepost, subzero playlist.
Skirts lifted in the alcove,
phones resting on the sides of our heads.
I didn't know what irony meant, but I'd say it anyway.
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