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I heard rumors that you've been seen lighting up the sky with kisses, setting fires in the rain. Didn't know that oil and water could mix but you've been seen closing in, setting fires with the rain on your skin. Did you think I wouldn't catch on? Did you think my ears were deaf? I heard the rumors of every hour you spent sizzling through the rain drops, setting fires that couldn't be put out. I spoke a rumor of my own as I packed up my broken suitcase, now I'm the one setting fires in the rain. Rumor has it those banging doors still hang off their hinges. Rain pours in drowns the last of the fire. Poetry Ad-Free Upgrades Vote for this poem
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