For someone who is somehow, so good with words,
I say very little to him.
Everything between us is off limits
but I keep my lips pressed on his skin rather than speak.
No boarders were set and with each passing night spent with him,
I see more of the man I want to know.
The man who somehow empowered and motivates me without being aware.
I suppose… I keep my fingertips on a keyboard more
because on his skin I become addicted.

Pg 4 of 253

J. Saunders



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