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Forgive me, love. My affection for you cannot be conveyed in words or poems. It is a well that must be drunk from by your own lips. It needs the language of fingers and kisses and skin and sighes. When we reach the moment when we can speak the tactile tongue of love face to face, you will know just who I am and why I need you in my life. Until then, these poor words must suffice. Take them, a part of me, and all I can give in this moment.
0
Jun 8, 2015
Jun 8, 2015 at 9:25 AM UTC
Poor Words
Forgive me, love. My affection for you cannot be conveyed in words or poems. It is a well that must be drunk from by your own lips. It needs the language of fingers and kisses and skin and sighes. When we reach the moment when we can speak the tactile tongue of love face to face, you will know just who I am and why I need you in my life. Until then, these poor words must suffice. Take them, a part of me, and all I can give in this moment.
mike-essig
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Jun 8, 2015
Jun 8, 2015 at 9:25 AM UTC
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