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By spaceman Date: 2002 May 07 Comment on this Work [[2002.05.07.15.08.19764]] |
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She lies beside me her shallow breath against my back tells me she is awake an hour after slipping into bed hours late. She thinks I'm sleeping she brushes the tips of her fingers whisper soft through my hair she sighs and I wonder what that breath holds longing, love regret? My Ivory girl of this morning smells like Irish Spring tonight and I don't think she washed her hair at a "late meeting". She lies beside me and she lies. |