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Rated: E · Poetry · Emotional · #1357624
My breath would stop, were it not for instinct...
Breathe shallow, so nothing touches the edges
Watch in minds eye as his skin pulls taut and
The muscles underneath ache and bend
It’s so late and its raining and you should be home
And his room is small and the blinds leak light
Sand is brushing your skin and hair
He is blinking and doing the open mouth thing
And you are smiling …you don’t know you are
You are one million miles away and here at the same
Time is standing still in your world while he sweats
He is holding your hands, and blinking and looking
And breathing so hard and wanting and moving above
And he says “look at you…just” and you can’t
Because you feel ugly and awful and bare
And he is brushing your skin with awe and affection
You are falling, you are lost you are so close
But a million miles from yourself, your home.
…Breathe deep…breathe deep.
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