And all the things you bring,
Sand, dryness and a new meaning to life,
Well, in truth, not really,
You just remind me what it is I love,
About the things you do,
Pressing against every part of me,
That I expose to you,
Whispering what I must hear in my ear,
Sweet nothings, just like mind,
No one believes you have something to say,
And for me that is fine,
For you are mine,
No one knows you like me,
You are life, death and everything between,
Portender of my own mortality.
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