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still trace

still trace

I can 
still trace
her face
from memory:

her girlish smile,
the ticklish cleft
above her lip,
her full,
pink, kissable,
lips,
the curve 
of her cheeks,
the way her 
hair curled
on the side 
of her head,
the way her 
nose crinkled
when she 
smiled 
at me,
her sunny, 
sandy, soft, 
blonde hair 
that hung down 
around her 
smooth,
round,
shoulders,
the dimples that
pulled me 
into them,
every, 
time, 
she smiled.

© 2014 ajwrites57
A Long
❤ ❤ ❤




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