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His touch
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Somewhat poems It was a touch that ran
like the translucent tears intertwined with the led crimson tide
into pale pink streams
I like to bleed because of the vibrant reds and cold blacks
he’ll never get it
the touch crept
it was more than enough
It gave me chills of memories yet to come
I devoured them with the dark lids that serve as projectors to my eyes
So I stopped the faded river
leaving a forever reminder of his loving touch
saving me.
