Poetry / conditional positive regard

your hands are cold on my arms

such a lanky ghost of a man

but just pull me near

sapphire apparition

pull me near

to your cold

the warmth will come soon

cover your gemstones

before we’re both stuck and frigid

hypnotized

across our battlefields

show me your wounds

so i can see past your eyes

your hands are cold on my arms

such a lanky ghost of a man

but i still want you.

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