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Mar 2016
we get dressed before the dying embers of fire
the air is plugged with a deadly silence
empty bottles lay scattered amidst an endless mess of sweat and sheets
the seconds pass with an intense touch of tender bittersweet
your kitchen floor is cold and i collapse in a heap of endless longing
of your lips on my hips, of your blinding touch in an explosion of mindless ecstasy
es
Written by
es  Singapore
(Singapore)   
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