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Mar 2015
We lay there,
heavy breathing and sweat
accumulated in the stratosphere,
My head on your chest,
Like the process of auscultation,
Childs play and the air is sweet,
My intellectual wonders and dances around,
Like sweet ballerinas on a stage.
And I wonder,
"How long will you last,
how long will you stay before you have to go?".
Like tears exuding down a gutter,
I cease the liquid from flooding
and I instead enjoy the moment.
Abbie Crawford
Written by
Abbie Crawford  England
(England)   
522
 
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