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Chickenskin


Your touch on my skin.
A breeze,
Passing through wonder, desire, or secrets?
Perhaps this hesitant pause is what my mind creates
To satisfy myself with you.

Your lips on my skin.
A rainy afternoon,
Scraping at sorrow, pain and lust.
Longing to find ourselves in each other
And apart.

Your tear on my skin.
A storm,
Ripping through the crack we never knew was there.
---
Wait, no.
This was not supposed to be about you.
Why did it end this way?
I'm ready to put it all away and feel again.

So let me be touched again
Let me be kissed again
Let me cry again
With someone new.

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