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fairytale of smoke
by Versey
I write about you as if the ink would burn through the paper,
as if you’d walk through the smoke,
engulfed not in flames,
but in your own divine beauty.
I sit here with ink-covered fingers,
fire alarms going off in my head
from the fire you lit in my soul.
I sit and watch
as you come alive through my words,
paper cuts stinging
from flipping through every page
I’ve ever written of you...