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Mar 2013
I haven't kissed anyone in so long.
I might just evaporate from the sheer
heat

Standing on tiptoes, touching noses
Palms pressing hard against palms as they
meet

I'm falling into tiny fragmented pieces
And you are picking at the edges, playing with the
seam

And then you vanish into thin air
My hands empty, once full of this
dream

I crumple like paper to the floor
Little tree branch fingers twisted into
knots

Tears so blue they flood the room
I'm washed away, waves reminding me of what I
*forgot
© Amara Pendergraft 2013
August
Written by
August  25/Trans Male/The Secret Garden
(25/Trans Male/The Secret Garden)   
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