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I get lost in the patterns of people
Eyes that I read
Bodies that breathe
Wandering meandering senses
Of wanting to be understood.
Minds and lips that never find
A connection, a need to know
Where does the depth to one end?
I dip my feet in the salty blue-grey
Skin pruning under the touch of clouds.
A feeling deep rooted
Branches through my eyes.
I wish, some understood
And some didn’t.
A feeling to be wanted
In a way that I want
By someone I want
Is alien to me.
Where does this need end?
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~insight07
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Check out my new book- Sun On My Hands!
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