My fingerpad rests in the hollow
Where your lower ribs meet
'It's yours if you want it' you say
Decades later I'm cool with sleep
Coaxing me to your morning warm skin
Still you say it's mine, always.
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My fingerpad rests in the hollow
Where your lower ribs meet
'It's yours if you want it' you say
Decades later I'm cool with sleep
Coaxing me to your morning warm skin
Still you say it's mine, always.
