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Nov 2019
Throughout my life my treasure small
Has been the love of someone small

The hands that rested on my waist
that clung to me like carpet base.

A rosy neck I nibbled and pecked
while dancing on a private deck.

A warm hand in the back pocket of my jeans
She knows what true happiness means.


So our love wont ever be a waste
Its the walls, the roof, the furniture the base.
Anecandu
Written by
Anecandu  M/Jamaica
(M/Jamaica)   
  167
   --- and TheIdleOwl
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