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alleyways MAG
June 19, 2015
We run down the empty alleyways
the cold wind tousling our damp hair
the smell of cigarettes
and rain, clinging to our
warm bodies, we laugh,
eyes flash in the
moonlight that
shines above
us.
© Olivia E., Alto, MI
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This poem is in memory of one of the last nights that I spent with my friends when I lived in Italy.