Arriving to my eyes expectant,
your note tugs for touch,
my hand is your longing want
for mouth to voice a hush.
You wrote this. Your pen
was here, in these lines I trace
with mine, shaping a ken
in words of fond embrace.
Writing as if your hand is mine
and mine is yours;
Your hand in my glove
my glove on your hand;
Thinner than skin
distance (between us)
disappears in.
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