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Mar 2015
your knuckles

when they’re lined up next to mine

our hands laced together

the one dimple in your left cheek

that only comes out when you smile

really, really big

your moles

and how i’m sure they’d form a constellation

if only you’d let me see them

long enough to connect the dots

i can find stars elsewhere i suppose

starlight, star-bright

will you be my home tonight

your knuckles

how white they are

when you grip my hand too tight

my bones creak

i squeeze back
margaret flowers ©
old 3 a.m. ramblings
margaret flowers
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margaret flowers
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