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Lightning Under Fabric

  


  We hold each other,

  Inches apart,

  Under the blanket,

  Lying in bed,

  Rain stamping their feet on our roof

  Like a toddler with a temper.

  You still get shy when I stare at you.

  You get suspicious

  Every time I stop to just comprehend you.

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  I feel lightning as our skin touches,

  And you ask what I'm thinking.

  But there are no thoughts in my head.

  There's no need for them.

  Who makes mental notes when staring at a waterfall?

  Who duly organizes ideas when gazing upon a mountain?

  How many sentences runs through your mind

  When you crest a hill and become awestruck

  At the mesmerizing beauty of a valley or a cliff?

  Nevertheless you insist I was thinking something.

  What need do I have for conscious thought

  When you are all my mind craves?

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