you're in the numbers
on the clock
your whispers dance
upon my shoulder
when I'm kneeling
in the garden
you caress my face
in the breeze
when I have the window
down cruising through town
your arm is around me
while I watch my
favorite French movie
your hands are on my hips
while I'm at the stove
cooking a spinach omelet
for breakfast
your hand is warm on my chest
as I turn on my side
in bed and fall asleep
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