Yeah I know what you're
Yeah I know what you’re
for. I know the furtive thinking,
waiting, lips poised at the edge of a
thick glass drunk on wonder
I know all your wakings up and your
goings to and fro;
they are set on my collarbone like pearls
Yeah I know what you
are, that longlimbed thinfingered appartion
that sits patiently on my bedsheets
and breaths. Gently. In.
And beautiful, besides.
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