Raine August
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Oct 21, 2021

I miss the flutter
The first feelings of love
Like waking up
I miss the rush from new lips
Pressed nervously
Wanting more but holding back
I don't miss the chains
The loss of freedom
Cuts and bruises from hands
Molding me into a caricature
Barely resembling me
I miss the start
But every start has a finish

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