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Honey, you should see her in the stars,

Firebird heart

With the eyes to match,

Fingers playing wishes like glass on string,

Fingers playing wishes on prison bars,

Lining bridges with prayers

For the faithless ones to find their way home;

Honey, you should see her trying to sell her soul

For a ticket to the sun,

Baby blues glowing red,

Lips blistered from kissing ghosts,

And you hear her lies now –

She’s tired of running with Cupid’s arrows

Chasing her to the moon,

She wanted to sleep with angels –

And with spades tattooed on her wrists,

Rolls the dice one last time

To save herself.

©The Effects of Black and White; to be published later this year.

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