It was the warmth of my breath
on the back of your neck
as I ran my fingers
up and down your spine.
You're convinced you play this game better than I,
because they've come to worship at your feet--
never realizing you're an illusion.
Real, unreal, and the black stars in between
fill the miles that separate us in everything but desire.
Each new season brings new revelations.
The eyes are the same, but those full lips I longed to bite,
form a softer smile -- unfamiliar.
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