I’ve been thinking of you today. How fresh it felt to think of you, to have your face dancing in the corner of my vision.
Your tiny caresses are more and less than what I want. I can lean into them, but what will that get me? I can pull away, but what will that get me?
Your hands are warm and I’ve been cold. Your nails are clean. But your mind is slippery. I’ve been here before.
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