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Circle of Ravens
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Shorties When I remember running my young
hands over your black tattoos, I think of
the wine
circle of ravens
Our purple tongues groping for a fix
In some delicate way, you loved me
I was entertaining, holding you, unattached
Reading your witchcraft books as you
slurred your way into my clothes
I was good for that
and you knew it.
I don't know any context but
I don't know any context but I still get a sense of emotions. Perhaps that is how all poems should be anyways. I really like it.