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Apr 2014
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.
Brycical
Written by
Brycical
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