Sometimes simplicity is captivating.
The way he smells, or bites his lip,
Or the dimples at the base of his back.
The urge to sear the moment in my mind;
The calm, quiet air in the room,
And the soft curves of skin.
But the simplicity of urges is its own world.
How nice it would be to always hold that hand,
To always hear that voice, to always see that face.
The urges for simplicity are dangerous,
But urges are but a solitary ache in a heart
Held together by glitter glue and tape.
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