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I Am Not really Sure
I am not really sure
What it was,
A mist of melancholy,
A memory moment,
Perhaps simply you
Forever entwined in the
Energy fields winding
Around me,
Pressing, pulling, tingling,
Tickling, your tips
Skimming over my skin
Creating a summer sensation
Of tropical heat and the beat
Of romantic hearts and mystical
Distant drums.
Stephen Nesbitt ©
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