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Mar 2013
There are fingers tangled in my hair, pulling, grasping.
I breathe, the fingers have moved to my throat, pressing.
Skin on skin; heavy, weighted breaths.
You are the map and the territory.
I feel you under my fingertips, warm and radiating.
A stolen kiss, a pinch of teeth.
I have been here before,
But this is unfamiliar.
I have done this countless times,
but I have never felt so close.
Laura Leeann White
Written by
Laura Leeann White  Nevada City, CA
(Nevada City, CA)   
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