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brown liquor tongues

september air brings ice cold lungs
only warmed by green leaf breaths
and brown liquor tongues
goosebumps under flannel due to nerves and fleeting love
with some blue eyed boy
but we blame it on the buzz
old enough to want more
too young to go and get it
young enough to make mistakes
old enough to regret it
too old to repress these memories so we can’t forget it
making tragedies into romance
and cliches into plans
we try so hard to stick together, though we know we haven’t a chance

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