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When We Need to . . .
By Mona Lisa Saloy When I need you to hold me, and
you lean just inches away, maybe
I can't tell you how I need to,
sometimes.
Sounds easy that one can just say
something
to someone, but some words come
like bricks in
your throat, and the brow bleeds,
and female parts
butterfly, and I surrender to your
need for
a hug in your eyes when you can't
tell
me, but I can hear it in your purr
some-
times, in your pouring over me
like
honey, hot and golden, touching
inch by inch,
finger to fold in heat, and the
way those
chestnut eyes follow me like an
airplane,
when we need to be held, and we
can't say. |