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Host (Free verse) by Imperfections
You're a bandage to my wounds. I'm infected while your gone with their dirty looks and slimey smirks festering under my skin. You're an antipyretic to the fever which now, breaking with your return, leaves me immune, no longer host to the virus seeping out.

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xxx68.166.37.1850June 21, 2005 6:27 AM PDT
AnotherNothing65.73.160.496March 10, 2004 3:32 PM PST
wOrnella Mutiw198.81.26.1679January 21, 2003 11:26 PM PST



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