| | what traced your lips was not lipstick. my finger orthogonally pressed upon your parallel pink lips firm and telling beckon momentary silence; no, we're not allowed to do this.
my thoughts- we can not! we will not. will we? will you? won't you? won't you let me in? no.
you're holding my breath. i'm suffocating; i'm drowning; i'm smothered singing smiles.
we said we wouldn't, but our fingers were crossed- all ten of yours against all ten of mine.
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| | Posted 6/18/2009 1:51 PM - 6 Views - 0 eProps - 0 comments
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