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His Voice

Ever cell, every atom in my body craves it. I lie in bed but I’m wide awake. I dream of a day when I could call it mine. Not that there’s the slightest chance that it ever will be. No one could ever have such a thing. It almost has a life of its own. Beautiful. Majestic. Powerful. Gentle. The thought of it makes me tingle. Yet it is promised to another.




This post first appeared on Broken Pieces Glued Together, please read the originial post: here

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His Voice

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