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She controls her laughter,
lets it slip from the edge of her mouth,
the corners of her lips lift ever so slightly,
then, she makes a sound,
seamlessly, her fingers graze my thighs,
smoothly, her eyes meet mine,
and in her eyes, I see my reflection—
aflame, abashed, and fiery,

She is the answer I’ve scoured the world for,
and yet, she, herself, remains a mystery,

Ah, I see,
She controls her laughter
as easily as she controls me.
If there comes a time
that you might lose me
Find me in my poetry
amanda
amand
aman
ama
am
i
allowed to admit
these letters
are losing meaning
everyday?
some days
i don't want to be me

some days i don't want
to be a person
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