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Sunday, 8 January 2017

[Poem] When Your Skin Touched

These soft autumn leaves, 
Falling from their limbs 
Pelting down on my skin, 
Like green flakes of snow. 

I stand in the garden, 
Eyes closed, not a shred of silk 
Upon my bare skin, 
Waiting to be awakened. 

The soft hands of time, 
They move on forward, 
Not halting, not bringing me 
Back to when your skin touched.

Copyright © thearcticstar 2016

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