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You brush your fingers on my back and count the brackets on my spine
As you observe all the details in my deeply flawed design
And as you trace over my freckles, making pictures in your mind
You lace your fingers all through mine and feel our hands begin to bind

Our fingers slowly knot, turning into a mess
As we're tangled and twisted, from our loving caress
Being woven together from the threads on my dress
As we turn into one, I'm trapped inside your chest

Now when your heart beats, that's my laughter
And when you cry, I start right after
Whenever you bleed, that's my splatter
Whenever you speak it's my chatter

How many brackets did you count on my spine
before we both melted, and your blood became mine?

— The End —