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Sensory Mind Foam
etched into my memory
like fossils burned in stone
your face, your smile oh so promisory
your love, not real, illusory
and yet still i moan
inside at the mere thought of touch and kiss
sensory mind foam
this yes i do still miss
churning up through memory's door
the way we osculated
light and playfully
or so passionately
we did articulate
without words to thus restrain
those feelings deep within our mind
not spoken in frame
just continuance, a cruel head game
poem
by
C.S. Keskuela
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