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THE WOMAN.

in her secret life

Tag

touch

Smell.

Darling, I don’t know you much.

Well…I guess I don’t want to.

Sometimes, too much knowing kills.

So, I chose to let it still.

 

All I know is the smell of you.

The scent of damp spring grass in a foggy morning,

of the cologne you put the first night we met,

of touches and kisses when lights turn low,

and of your warm chest where my cheek perfectly fits in.

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SICKENING DESIRES.

On a rainy day, I looked out the window

and let my imagination wander far away.

Vague images of you entwining me

appeared on the screen of pittering-pattering rain.

Deep kisses and craving touches-

My body curved perfectly, wanting for more hugs.

In my sickening desires,

you burnt me into cinder with your fingers.

 

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