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he knew how to sustain my gaze
(like a dissertation)
and every time he talked to me
my hands would caress each other
in hiding
(one of them pretending it was his)
I was quivering around each map,
year or name of a leader
you,
(pardon me),
you Sir
I loved more than chocolate
2 comments:
you Sir
I loved more than glass of wine in the summer
dancing is
still mine
you Sir
follow me
i will teach you
flying is a personal business
pardon me, Sir
but I use to
fancy you
and this is my poem
about it..
x
:)
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