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Turned Out Trimeric

I started flirting with fire, so intoxicated by incense. This heart’s hell on wheels, these shoes demand I dance. So intoxicated by incense, breath snuffed and passed. Eradicated with your graze. This heart’s hell on wheels, receiving that standing ovation. A core memory for my mantle. These shoes demand I dance, succumb to bared emotion. My body and soul turned out.

Copyright © | Year Posted 2025




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