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Mar 2014
It's tragic, this love.

How I clutch to your lips
like the ledge over a raging river,
fingers slipping,
slipping.

How my eyes plead to you,
to pull me to safety,
into you arms,
into your eyes.

I plead for your words,
like a drought needs the rain,
my life needs your breath,
your heartbeat.

It's tragic, this love.
© Cassie Mae Writings 2014
Cassie Mae
Written by
Cassie Mae
521
   Brenna L and Timothy
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