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Rated: E · Poetry · Experience · #1800300
The night I finally let you go, I’d just washed with your soap.
Irish Springs

The night I finally let you go,
I’d just washed with your soap.
So you followed and tormented me the long drive home.
I thought to rinse you away, along with my tears and shame.
But instead I went to bed, with the smell of you on my skin,
And let you hold me close.
Because I knew it would never happen again.

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