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Poetry
Literary
You hold my finger
In your fist,
In your tourniquet grip
Lying like Snow White -
a book unopened on the shelf,
a tale yet to be told.
Every breath a battle
And every heartbeat heralds
An electronic barrage.
You hold my finger
In your fist,
And slowly squeeze my heart.
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Copyright 2006, R. F. Long. All rights reserved.
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