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Image for the poem heat waves

heat waves

what do we do
when the fantasy dies
we cant revive a fire
that was burning inside
we both stomped
and spat
and fought the flame
but we're reaching and calling
to keep it all the same

i'm still in a cyclone
spun up in your web
rolled into a cigar
and smoked to the coals
i know you'd still hit it
when there's nothing left
the dust of the ashes
drifting off of your breath
Written by wolfmauve (Kushina_Meioh)
Published
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