The tickle of bee feet on a smooth forearm.
The knot of breath in the neck and no "goodbye."
The thorn holding back the blood.
The lost tongue when the candy falls out.
An itch you don't scratch but brace against.
A language you love the sound of.
The sentence you won't say.
The moist weight of tired, open eyes.
Those eyes closing and just feeling
the mossy edge of sleep and opening again.
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