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| original work by 2010, Samantha Thompson |
softly looking
ask me,
touch my lips,
my hair
wants to run
through your fingers.
Soft frown
lips poised to touch,
my fingers,
your shoulders
neck their way
up, your chin
gently touches.
I am
drawn to touch you,
nothingness
draws me closer,
I resist,
futile to,
I succumb
and kiss your kiss.
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