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The girl with the geographic scars with plains that were bumpy and skin deep had paths that connected across her thighs

and she loved me.

Whose blood vessels tightened as if to erupt.

There are volcanoes that erupt on her wrists.

Her eyes they see forecasts of gloomy clouds.

Her nose inhales the polluted insults and I look her way, she has turned into a tornado that twists at everyone’s touch.

She has turned into a hurricane that has put my pieces back together instead of destroying me.

She turned into my lover.

I healed her with the magic I dug out from the soil in my backyard.

I watered her geographic scars with my tears at the accomplishments she made.

I wrapped my roots inside her skin

and i sewed

until there was no cut left her.

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