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Her work.

her hands so artistic, her fingers so tender
taking the pain away, her fingers long and slender
rubbing the hurt and easing the pain
mending and tending to every strain
hands so fragile, radiant and strong
stroking his face, intimate and long
every stroke, she leaves nothing but heat
heat to and from her fingertips, it makes him weak
tracing the skin, so soft and slow
stitching and knitting with every sew
numbing the bruise, her firm hold so tight
feeling so good, her touch is just right
hands stained with every portrait she makes
markers, pens and pencils it makes him ache
yearning for her touch, that is filled with art
tracing his chest, reviving his heart
Thud.....Boom her hands just lie there
her hands on his chest, and him smoothing her hair
looking into his eyes, her hands draw that image
his portrait so alive and vibrate, eyes so timid
she draws him slowly, her eyes sketching his face
tracding and sketching, her hands moving with grace
looking at him, than back at her work
she whispers softly "take of your shirt"
drawing his masculine chest that a girl would die to touch
stroking and studying the man she loves so much
her work complete, she shows him her heart
of her feelings of him that dedicates her heart





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