The Cravings

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As the passage of time lapses,

And the clasp of your necklace drops.

My fingers trail down the curves of your shoulder blade.

You sigh as if your about to cave,

Into my arms, a willing slave.

And my lips press into yours,

Your back arches like a bow,

Waiting for an arrow to be placed,

But instead you find my arms,

Intertwined around your luscious waist.

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