Forty Six : Carried

Those felt
Like the only real lips
To have ever been pressed
Firmly against mine
As mine pressed firmly back
Hands over shoulders, or around
To the small of the back
Whos hands where
I lost track
Lips pressed
Knowing we have to part
I jot down a few words
Expecting the same
Expecting them to be meaningless
To another name, which I haven’t decided
But they didn’t
You read them, gazed them, pulled them into your heart
Let them circulate through veins
Felt the weight between your muscle and bone
And you carried it
With you


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