Her nails were peeling
my skin
into layers
of deep inhibition.
She flavored herself
in an era of prohibition.
It make no different
of my decision.
Her eyes were wafer delicious.
Her eyes were pens,
marked previsions.
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Her nails were peeling
my skin
into layers
of deep inhibition.
She flavored herself
in an era of prohibition.
It make no different
of my decision.
Her eyes were wafer delicious.
Her eyes were pens,
marked previsions.
Nice poem
Appreciated!