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Feb 2014
You gallivant across my being
fingertips, whispers in the dawn
loose ends on the bed, in my mouth
my head
to converse is too vague
lacking the intimacy of the moment
circling in ominous designs
encasing the thoughts of hazy wonderment
curiosity of what is the now
ravishing the silence that keeps it here
Victoria Rose
Written by
Victoria Rose
379
 
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