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(Original Format)
While your name is being traced beside mine, as I speak,
your words seem to take shape and then rearrange my breathing.
The second I am lost in the maze that is you, eagerly searching,
the wind finds your whisper of, “I Need You” … and I become weak.
~ A romantic scribble ~
Longing for your touch
Sunday December 19th, 2021- Poem of the Week