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Poetry by C. Eve

I am the First Eve.

April 13, 2018

Terminal

Her hand is
suspended
without sanctuary
as she waits for you
to hold her, but
your weight is
heavy,
almost unbearable.
You live in her
like a plague.

Posted in Art, Poetry, UncategorizedTagged c.eve, poem, poetry, thefirsteveBy shadowofeve

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