The bridge of your nose.
Tiny spiders across my thighs.
Imprints of baby ghosts' breath
Trailing down my stomach.
All the memories I couldn't place.
Couldn't hide in a shoebox
At the end of my bed.
Tiny spiders across my thighs.
Imprints of baby ghosts' breath
Trailing down my stomach.
All the memories I couldn't place.
Couldn't hide in a shoebox
At the end of my bed.
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