Conversations (V) — skin, to skin

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Conversations (V) — skin, to skin

I am the space before your voice is heard.
You’re the breeze that remembers every leaf’s name.

I am the weary road you know will take you home.
You are the river that sways the nimble oars.

A raspy sunrise. Whisper pleasant friction:
Your lips’ lines on my palm are not a fiction.

4 thoughts on “Conversations (V) — skin, to skin”

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