Slipping fingers
a palette touch.
To bring me life
a hand’s enough.
Touched heart I
put into dreams
of what I felt to
not forget peace.
Laced fingertips
in with my own
I remember its
sensation sewn.
Come with me,
my heart carry.
As we grow old
in body weary.
Slip do colors I
project in tones
where a picture
I have is home.
I beg to leave it,
my spite behind.
It flies from me,
warmth I find.
What color shall
we bathe in soft?
To quinch anger,
for to send aloft.
Spoil me shall I
request it again?
A hand to touch,
yours my friend.
♥️🖤♥️🖤♥️ beautiful
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Gahh!! 😍😍😍
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Goodmorning and thank you. Lol. Many thanks Weigman.
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Good morning! 🧡 Always, Winchester!!
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this is incredibly vivid!
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Thank you very much!
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Wow so beautiful
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Thank you Taylor. 😊
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Welcome ❤
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