Navy blue eyelines cross a navy blue set.
A temporary slip of the push-pinned memory;
hypochondriac.
But I am the pornography that makes you breathe
That makes you feel
Feel alive and shudder to think
What it's like,
"oh what's it like?"
And I can't even tell where your fingers end and mine do begin.
For I can't.
But this could be the kiss that all
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