PerfumesA Poem by a_methysteI clinged and clinged on the habit of perfumes. But My finger Stirred out On Their Evaporating habit. It Remained With nothing To Touch.
I clinged and clinged on the habit of perfumes.
But My finger Stirred out On Their Evaporating habit. It Remained With nothing To Touch. © 2025 a_methyste |
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Added on March 1, 2025 Last Updated on March 1, 2025 |

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