Nice and blunt, addiction

The power suppressing

Are your unuttered whispers

They creep out

With a whoosh of air

Silently caressing the follicles

Of my back first

Tracing and memoring

The delicate curves of my waist

Then spiraling upwards

They make my body

Mark their arrival 

By the slight goosebumps

Starting from the curve of my neck

To my tattooed wrists

They make me

Want to turn around 

But not at the same time

As my vision takes

Momentary shelter under

My closed eyelids

But you are still there

Engraving my soul

Stoutly with your essence

And bashfully with

Your silent presence 


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