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I Want

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I want to be those flowers,
you sniff on your way to work.
I want to be those dollar bills, pulled out of your wallet
at a local cafe.
I want to be that coffee, that graces your lips.
Travel through your body, settle down and be warm.
I want to be that ring on your finger,
pretend it’s not from another man.
Want to grace those lovely hands
that simply drive me
mad.





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