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Sep 2012
A deep inhale, caught
across the dip between your
shoulder blades.

I am only the small space between my fingers,
the inconsequential rifts that disappear when your hand
slides into mine.

You are only the soft shallow sound of
footsteps coming up the stairs
so I know
I am no longer alone, here.
Lizz Parkinson
Written by
Lizz Parkinson
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