Saturday, April 30, 2016

without a trace

your skin
touches mine,
and is filled
with the softness
and comfort
of used clothes
over years,
wrapping me up
in myself,
with myself,
in the closeness
of a touch
that has become mine
over the years,
my hands,
my body,
my eyes,
my nakedness
dissolving
in yours,
without a trace.

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