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Mar 2019
Your hand on flesh
Over rib’s fresh bone
Over exposed heart
For you alone.

I don’t know why
This arrests me so
To feel your palm
below my throat.

Yet contented smile
Creeps to my countenance
When affection’s physicality
Meets tenderness’ essence.

My hand on yours
On my skin
On my heart
I grasp to the prospect
Of love’s restart.
Jordana
Written by
Jordana
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