My arms lifted through the phone

Sweet scented things you’ll never send


Is it that obvious to you

Is it not that easy to pretend

My mattress has a memory foam topper

Leaving me in sea foam

Like Aphrodite birthed from the sea

When she is surrounded by the gentle, does she feel home?

Voices sing me straight to sleep

My soul has always been a task to keep

Keep me warm and soft and I might pretend to let you borrow

My gentle, beautiful, burning soul until tomorrow.

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