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Aug 2015
Few words could describe how I feel,
I could use simplistic phrases and cliché notions,
A desire, if you will.
I could call it a romantic lust,
A yearning,
A need.

But I refuse to call it that.

I become a whirlwind of emotions.
A puddle of a person.
I feed off of the affection you give to me.

A kiss to the nose.
A kiss to the lips.
A touch of hands.


Silence, followed by laughter.

Do you realize that we are perfect?
Barrow
Written by
Barrow  Indiana
(Indiana)   
581
   RH 78
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