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savage beauty

are those mountains

or clouds, I think

both have sharp peaks

both white and pure, cut from the same sky

both make me sigh

at how beautiful the world can be

even when you close your hand over my mouth

and tell me

to be quiet

you see, I don’t remember much of things

like your belt buckle knocking against my teeth

or swallowing my own voice

or the muffled loudness

of the lock on your door

I remember asking if the world

would ever hold more

for me.

And that’s when the sky whispered

look over here

and find beauty.

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