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Gold Hoops 

By Zyen Smoot

She lost her earrings in your room last night 

They were left on a chipped confused dresser 

Knocked over, tumbled when you undressed her 

Sitting in dusted text messages right 

Of her bralette still warm from the first sight 

And aching in anonymous slurs 

That run from nostalgic aged lips once yours 

Now spore hushed kisses laced tongues taste slight 


But alluring how magnetic they pull

Soft breaths pressed against needed I love


Drowning in inconsistent grey smoke pools 

Hiding against underdeveloped trues 

Fingertips running across lustful jewels 

Knock off gold hoops against cool floors, lost hues

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