Hold My Hand

A cold stare controls your glare; I see the blatant disguise in my design; I’m me in the flesh; my flaws scattered among the dead leaves for all to see. A warm kiss tickles your lips to the release of a sigh. Your pale skin turns sun-baked red. I hold your trembling hand, your muscles release tension, and you say you feel safe.

(© 2022 AC)

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