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Michael Murphy
Poems
Nov 2017
Sleepy Hours
In the sleepy hours, I miss the warmth.
Body on body, breathing as one. I miss the touch, the being touched. The feeling of skin, not my own.
In the sleepy hours I think on memories, I imagine making new memories. Hoping my memories fold into dreams and dreams become real.
Laying alone at night and this is my stream of words.
#love
Written by
Michael Murphy
United States
(United States)
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