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his hand so softly stroking my hair snaking along my neck pressing in the valley ‘tween my shoulder blades down down down my spine circling each vertebra he carves my curves out from stone hips and thighs and flesh and bone his thumb traces the profile of the slope of my nose and the smirk of my lips trailing down my sternum the outlines of my ribs and stomach all the round and all the sharp the dimples the freckles the scars all finishing touches touches o’er my body of clay ‘cross my skin of paint covered in his fingerprints humming as he works and i take whatever form he asks of me - p. winter
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Mar 16, 2022
Mar 16, 2022 at 6:38 PM UTC
the sculptor
his hand so softly stroking my hair snaking along my neck pressing in the valley ‘tween my shoulder blades down down down my spine circling each vertebra he carves my curves out from stone hips and thighs and flesh and bone his thumb traces the profile of the slope of my nose and the smirk of my lips trailing down my sternum the outlines of my ribs and stomach all the round and all the sharp the dimples the freckles the scars all finishing touches touches o’er my body of clay ‘cross my skin of paint covered in his fingerprints humming as he works and i take whatever form he asks of me - p. winter
penny-winter
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Mar 16, 2022
Mar 16, 2022 at 6:38 PM UTC
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