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1.
 
I wish we still took pictures
of our hands and feet
in the early mornings.
 
Roused from sleep
to snap each other.
 
Rubbing at our elbows
for warmth,
sparks that neared 
and disappeared.
 
2.
 
The sweetness of desire
ripping from the chest
 
when the ghost
that you desire is
 
mistiness, 
 
a gloss 
beyond 
the stretch 
 
of skin 
on bone 
the hip 
 
the strength 
you hope 
exists 
 
behind 
the veil 
 
beyond 
the quiet. 
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