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Poetry
Top voted Poetry
#229841voted by our readers
By Anonymous
Tell me that you think of me, when you hear a storm. And run your fingers down my spine, admiring my form. I'll tell you that I miss the touch, I have yet to feel. And thou...
Tell me that you think of me, when you hear a storm. And run your fingers down my spine, admiring my form. I'll tell you that I miss the touch, I have yet to feel. And thou...