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It is winter.


I am Valeria

I am a plague

I go through rapid cycling of materialism and anti-materialism

It changes month by month

I am type o negative

I give to all

But only those like me can give to me.

It is a sad but beautiful truth.

In my make-up bag

Is hidden

A pregnancy test.

A beer opener.

I need a breathalyzer to erase my anxiety;

Driving on highways at night

The barely lit streets.

I swerve when I am sober.

Bruised lips.

Dry hips.

I hardly notice the snow anymore.

Let’s make out and listen to Slow Dive

In your foggy looking dim-lit bedroom

While the spring creeps nearer.

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valeriart
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