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Apr 2021
Longing,
Yearning desire.
A definition that can't compare,
To the ardor in my veins.
Your lips, mesmerizing,
Your scent, succulent.
My eyes land on you,
And stick like glue.
My fingertips itch,
For that electricity.
The shock I get,
When I touch your skin.
My favorite flavor,
I thirst for you.
Lacey Meadows
Written by
Lacey Meadows  30/F/Tempe
(30/F/Tempe)   
87
 
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