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Quenching Heart

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Controllng each beat,
of my still beating heart,
She is in control.
Only the quench of her fists,
keep it pumping,
Quenching,
pulsating,
Quenching,
pulsating,
my heart is in,
her hands.
Only the quench of her grasp
keeps me awake
Her ever clasping hand
pumps my submissive heart.

At her hand, I am
alive,
Without her grip, I cannot,
survive.





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