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Mar 2014
my fingers stroke
the curved flesh
so aching in
its movement

our breath held
static in the space
between my heart
and yours

my longing
a primal dissonance
finds serenity in the way
you graze my lips

the pull of your
hands against my
whispered doubts
is hope

a tender, fleeting flower
once so stoic and tightly furled
is learning to breathe
november, 2013.
lazarus
Written by
lazarus  29/near the sea
(29/near the sea)   
354
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