Poppy Scarlett Poems

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1.
Postcards

'Parisian food is to die for' - you wrote.
'Even the rain tastes of fine château wine.
I am poisoning myself in style.
Boring does not exist here.
...

2.
Aria...

Silken fingers flow into mine
tender hands caress my cheek
your mesmerising voice drifts across
my senses, as rain drops cling
...

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