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The shapes you traced on my back
(stars and diamonds I think)
are shapes I hope I never forget.
Your fortune cookie tongue on mine
is a taste I hope I never brush away.
Your hands climbing my ribs
beneath my shirt melted my skin
and now your hand prints
are on my bones.

Somehow I forgave your silly lips,
who have locked with a thin mouthed girl.
And then I forgave your clumsy hands, who grazed the thigh of a
long legged blonde.
And once again, I forgave your confused mind as you uttered my name,
Babe,
to a girl who had her fingernails painted blue.

and I forgave and f o r gave and f o r g a v e.

and now I am washing your scent off my skin.



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