Tuesday, August 23, 2011

...

The pads of your fingers have become printing blocks,
you tap a message to my skin; tap meaning into my body.

Your morse code interfered with my heart beat.
I had a steady heartbeat before i met you, i relied upon it,

it had seen active service and grown strong.

Now, you alter its pace with your own rythmn, you play upon me, drumming me taut.

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