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Have you ever stood on the edge of a cliff? Have you ever looked over a precipice? Did you feel strong and tall? Or did you feel small and weak? Have you ever stared into the night sky?
It begins when The innocence of white Flirts with a tease of pink. A white dove Grows strawberry lips. And soon comes the thirst. The passion. A rosy cheek And burning tongue
The way it read, “Poetry Slam”, made it sound so violent I liked to think the artistic community was more refined than the MMA fighters slamming each other with folding chairs