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Dec 2009
If she is my half
Then it is one of numbers
And order
It is that which gets me up in the morning,
A wholeness that keeps me fed

If I may be her better side
Then I am there only
To loosen her mind
For she cradles the weight of
So **** much
I’m there to keep her warmer
Than she’s ever been

And at night when she’s at my side
I say, “Let go” and when I do,
And only then she will sleep in a velvety daze

When I put my head to her body
She holds it and takes my blood
And takes my faults
And who I may be
No longer matters
Just who I am

It is her smell
On my bare chest

Her hair, in thick strands
Wrapped in between my fingers

What she does with her fingers
to every inch of me

It is her grandmother’s way of talking

It’s how near she can be to my mind
And how distant to my person at the same time

It is all these things
That makes her a calculated mystery I never want to solve
Craig Dotti
Written by
Craig Dotti
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