a sense of you lingers
as i sit here alone
with my words, and books
and tragedies of conscience
but that sense of you, a light
drag of your careful fingers
caressing a lingering memory
whose words blur and shiver
because i'm with you
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i. i sit quietly watching the man seeking my soft spots with nimble fingers sliding in the needles, head, neck, belly, arms i'm froz...
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