Some smexy poetry at 1 am.
It came to me that these are some changes:
perhaps just the intermittent misplaced hours Here
On the resting of our bodies rIght,
You pushed the bud of your finger to my forehead once
or Thrice
Right Here
L-lov this finger
how i to beYou
In this nature of
me and Me?
though I have wishes for you
to see me
I profane this blood-seeking skin
you are under
me,
and our home of
scents--water, dirt, your cat, and my wrists
your eyes will always find blond lights when you
close
close them
tightly
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