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slivers

Your nails are painted pink, but the edges are chipped, revealing tiny slivers of skin beneath the color. You press your fingers to mine, lining them up like constellations, and ask if I think they’re ugly. I shake my head, because how could I? Even in pieces, you’re the brightest thing I’ve ever held.

Copyright © | Year Posted 2025




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Date: 3/1/2025 1:57:00 AM
Thank you for commenting on my Poems,it means alot.
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Book: Radiant Verses: A Journey Through Inspiring Poetry