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Cloud Nine

We lay on our backs;
Billowing clouds drift
Past our watching eyes.
Pictures form within
Their silver linings.
I allow my gaze
To fall upon you;
Your tender hands rest
Neatly on your chest,
Rising and falling
With the slow pattern
Of your relaxed breath.
With your chest’s next rise,
You are kissing me,
Craning your neck,
Ever so slightly,
Pressing against me,
Fingers twined with mine.
The clouds halt.
The only crucial shapes now
Are those of your lips
On mine.




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