There you are,
an inch apart from my longing lips.
You crouch closer,
not an inch,
not a single breath in between.
This is where I doubt,
where you linger,
not wanting to let go.
Your gaze getting softer shades,
loving – even.
The need for receding,
the fear of loosing,
confused messages that brush your cheeks
when I try to convince you
that I'm not scared.
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