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His Memory
January 8, 2014
His pain is a dagger in me.
His joy is my light.
One glance from him,
Is a towering wave of emotion.
Getting over him is a black hole,
When hes not around.
His voice is the music,
Of the wind.
His touch is the sentual desire.
His eyes are te windows,
To my soul.
His thoughts have me
In chains.
My lips touching his,
Vibrant,
Radiant,
Just as the northern lights.
© Nicole B., Newcastle, WA
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