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When

I miss the feeling-
being held close to chest,
thumb over lashes and pushing back
the excess of curls that hide my face.
Oh to become part of the far off stare
that eventually blurs
in your arms, 
after my eyes stop
climbing the walls, where the window
offers peace and the trees with long branches weep
against the ground like rain.  I want to feel that, maybe

just once more again.

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