Flashback poem
I never could tell
if it was my body
or my mind
he ached to strip.
He had a weakness
for pretty disasters
and ugly tragedies.
The cut
of his tongue
sliced through both.
Colors exploded
into me, violent
shades of him,
striking my soul.
Hush
your quaking
heart,
we have many
things to see.
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Wonderful opening and open-ended lines.
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