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May 2012
The fingers on my hands belong to you
and to the hairs of yours that settle
in-between the curves of them

You stick to me like glue
even when I peel you off
I haven’t

strips of extra skin, covering mine
a film of curiosity
smiling in the night

Lines of harmony I cannot stress
Only hum them off
the top of my head
Written by
BG Hermitt
546
   eiffel refuncion
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