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Dec 2016
Beneath the steep valleys and peaks of sheets she sleeps,
auburn strands against my cheek.
Legs entangled, heart beats sweet;
arms embrace for want to keep.
Outside, raindrops release, repeat;
weep and whisper their defeat;
crying skies on drowning streets-
but in retreat, we mingle, meet.
Somber silence speaks, complete-
in just a brush of touch,
so delicate, discrete.
Andrew Crawford
Written by
Andrew Crawford  31/M/Ohio
(31/M/Ohio)   
238
   ---, Frances E McClelland and ---
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