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Reach her.
Her soul is letting down
Her liquid hair.*

© 2014 J.S.P.
 Nov 2014 Aimee Harris
Emmy
i want
 Nov 2014 Aimee Harris
Emmy
I want to softly whisper
incomplete poems
on your collar bones
that don't rhyme with anything
but your heavy breathing.

I want to bury my face
in the curves of your neck
because you smell like the winter clouds
and I've been gazing at the sky
since you left.

— The End —