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■ The oak
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i pick your lock,
with frozen tears, and watch you sleep; erase your fears. i sew our hands, you can’t let go. each tug brings pain but you don’t know. i hold you close; your heart is still. last time it beat was on the pills. it’s not easy to just let go, when blood-stained thread keeps our hands sewn. i lick your lips and close your eyes, just like i did before you died. i lay with you and hold your head, and sleep with you upon death’s bed.
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