deepundergroundpoetry.com
Guilt of Two
Residue of guilt
On smooth skin
Engraved in eyes
An eternal lament
Most of our days
Seem intertwined
Foggy rooms
Scented by cigarettes
It's our dim judgment
Our wounds always mirror
Yet our eyes never meet.
On smooth skin
Engraved in eyes
An eternal lament
Most of our days
Seem intertwined
Foggy rooms
Scented by cigarettes
It's our dim judgment
Our wounds always mirror
Yet our eyes never meet.
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