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★★★★★ (1)
Rated: E · Poetry · Death · #1744833

An experiment with imagery

A sheet of silk to cover my sins
    The blades forgive and flow like water
    The pills make me faster, more comfortable
    The wine is the "death of the senses"
          Is death not peace?
A sheet of silk to cover my sins
It is hard to tell where sin ends and where the sheet begins

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