I just found this poem that I started a few months ago and never completed. I thought I'd post it here and see if having it on my blog would provide some inspiring words to jump to mind so it can be fulfilled.
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Embrace
Your hand on mine,
untouched by time,
we travel down our secret street.
I comprehend,
cannot pretend,
you are my own retreat.
Caress your face,
where time and space,
and touch become white heat.
I hear you moan,
and I postpone,
before the final sweet.
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Ah, and now the edge this did require had finally be found. I'll add more to it later if I find it longs for additional attention.
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