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I swear with my hand on the heart
[mine, another’s] that I know nothing that I get on the train on my way home and come off at some Glasgow terminal that I write on my shopping list b r e a d and rush through my front door with stolen roses nowhere is written for how long, until when but I hear your words climbing my body like spiders the wonderwall like ivy the cross [mine, another’s] I know nothing and no book will be able to tell how a hand is covering your mouth and the screaming inside yearns for your body like an unscrupulous whore like ivy for the cross [yours, ours] ♥
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