I love watching your leg moves, it reminds me my own finger acceleration
The nerve working embrace through your blood flow
Tight jeans working on late mid age sophistication
I paused towards your shadow
And I cheated on you with yourself
The young witness that believes on orchestral company
You should remember; the red upon the first floor
When I stayed oh so quiet like a dead bird
Following your placid sleep upon my upper leg under the table
While the jazzy valet was playing
I felt your hand, the broomy fingers
I found your recent photographs awhile ago
You look old, older than you are
Well... annual harmless secrets are kept for todays
When I needed them the most
You know how sacraments of human kind interrupt sometimes...
I am mad at myself to feel this way
I miss the untouched moon
The resurrection of your change
The opposite sides of being ruled
I know you were firm
And I was small ...as the best if it had the chance left
But I missed you
The back seat of constancy, the words of cherry suit
The tongueless fitting mouth
That knows how to starve itself
The kind that likes to go on hunger strikes
While the table is spread with unexpected knocks
Unless she dines on raptures like an army heel
She drops with dumb and dark
I am mad at myself to let her speak out
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