Another letter.

I think of the fire that erupted once brown skin morphed under sun.
Ab.

This letter will never be uttered with pink tongue.

My fingers burning with fragance of masked emotion and sweat only I can see.

Reminiscing the sound of cheek forming phrases through teeth    that help tongue to dictate in which octave to speak.Your words never surprised me any.

Ab.

Rosy heat never rose through a frame so cold that covered itself in flame.

Thinking back warm rain always seemed like a time to whisper when no one held the power to shut off what felt far from distance. Though your syllables slightly weighed enough to assume threshold was presevred for your thoughts.

…Still numbed, halting the ability to correlate opinions formed to systematize worth, through ways in which you speak.

Humming tunes of what I could not repeat, relativly speaking the raspy utterances turned my ear unexpectdly into vacuums that subbcum to any and everything sounding sweet

or dorky…

Like queen which was uttered in no regards towards me.

And I wallow for the ignorance in topics toward your liking. But don’t doubt for a moment that connection present, kept steady feelings flowing between the two members of studies.who locate yards apart and meters in mind.

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