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She says my nom de guerre. Her finger slices across the skin of her neck. Youre dead and youre mine. Truths foreplay a lie. We soft target each other, not barely. I break cover in her mouth. These are my front lines. We cant stop the world, so we postpone it. With wounds licked clean and clear. Somewhere missies look for other missiles. Light flashes off her armor lying on the living room rug. I mark something inside we cant read. Our salvation is death, but not this one.

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Crush Poems

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She says my nom de guerre. Her finger slices across the skin of her neck. Youre dead and youre mine. Truths foreplay a lie. We soft target each other, not barely. I break cover in her mouth. These are my front lines. We cant stop the world, so we postpone it. With wounds licked clean and clear. Somewhere missies look for other missiles. Light flashes off her armor lying on the living room rug. I mark something inside we cant read. Our salvation is death, but not this one.

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This web page crushpoems.blogspot.com states the following, "She says my nom de guerre." We saw that the webpage said " Her finger slices across the skin of her neck." It also said " Youre dead and youre mine. We soft target each other, not barely. I break cover in her mouth. These are my front lines. We cant stop the world, so we postpone it. With wounds licked clean and clear. Somewhere missies look for other missiles. Light flashes off her armor lying on the living room rug. I mark something inside we cant read. Our salvation is death, but not this one."

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Crush Poems

I put my empathy deep inside. Asked if they could feel it. Moments later we were filled with smoke. The bodies are everywhere,. How much have we really seen? Embarrassed by my lack of surprise. I act shocked for a while. Kink and slaughter gave the days pride. Our nights were long and dark. But not without an incredibly high thread count. We continue to strut our stuff. Blood and commerce pass between us. Holes widen in repetition around us.

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Homage to the Dark Lords by EAT LEAD.

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