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Thinking of you.

I cut my lip on a piece of glass
Bee stung pink parted at once,
Crimson beaded on the tender slit
Turning the liquid a rosy tint.

I dropped it - Smashed it on the floor
The shattered pieces imbedding in my foot,    
But I didn’t feel the pain of this accident
I liked the prick that made me think more of you.
Written by Mask-wearer
Published
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