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Jul 2014
I dream of holding his hand,
Soft palm intertwine[ing] with mine,
Fingers tightly locked together.

I wake every morning wish[ing] he were beside me
Wishing I could bury my face in the nook of his neck,
Have his sweet sent scent surround me.

I drift into thought[s] of kissing [him],
Lips that taste of lust,
Bodies pressed close and warm.

I remember the dark fear of being replaced,
I just prayed it wouldn't come from you,
GlimpsesΒ Β of his reckless passion for me.

But this distance between us,
Has turned me into,
A blank memory.
Nina MacDonald
Written by
Nina MacDonald  Regina, Saskatchewan
(Regina, Saskatchewan)   
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