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What Became Of That Poor Girl?

Nothing could stop what we did

Alchemy dictates its conclusion,

Tangled in an urgent chemistry

Physically desperate for fusion

 

What became of that poor girl?

Hiding those scars on her wrist

Bruises like plates on her back

Her lips in pain when we kissed

 

A freshers' conference is wild

Or used to be in olden times

Before masks and distancing

And other anti-...

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