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Haunted

 The ghost of imposter kisses
haunts swollen lips

Drowsily dreaming of traitorous neck and teasing finger tips.

Hurried well meant embrace
Hit the mark but somehow miss.

The reality it's not your face.
This spectre not your kiss.

Stretching sun drenched limb.
The universal haunting sin.

In any place I don't need much.
Though possibly your actual touch


Written by sharneindium
Published
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