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Poetry

(Love’s) First Meetings are the Deadliest

You can feel it

peeling from your fingertips,

pieces leaving specks of its blood behind

as you beg it to hold on a bit longer.

No matter how many times you ask,

the ever-leaving hours will leave

its anecdotes in doses of headaches,

each one pounding the seconds away

until grayed irises are smiling at the light.

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by cl2023

I’m a writer based in Southern California.

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