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Brycical
Poems
Apr 2014
Tactile Future Vision
I see this scene as our hands
intertwine:
Her hips roll--
backwards, just as her brown eyes.
Bodies burn...
sweat drips out through salty pores.
Growling smiles;
primal minds lead to bite marks.
Fingernails
croche scratch marks on shoulders.
Together,
we breathe like the trees asked us to.
I see this scene as our hands
intertwine.
#words
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Brycical
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victoria
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