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A non-love poem
She had stars for eyes
Burning bright, ready to combust
A heart full of lies
Dropping stones in my pockets with a smile
Her white-white teeth were gravestones
Of the hearts of many a guy
drowned the wheat they had sown
To make the bread she asked for
She was a glass figurine
Pretty from a distance,
But she'd cut you with edges unseen
Make valleys out of your palms
She was the ringmaster
Tailcoat stuffed with illusions and tricks
Her lies tasted like castor
rumors cut like a dull blade
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