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She does not state it
point blank
to his green-gray eyes
or breathe it into his neck

She does not write it
with childlike script
on jasmine scented paper
or hum it
into his morning coffee

She does not moan it
to the rhythm of his tongue’s tracing
or yelp it
mid pitch and roll

She says it
without a whisper
to the velvet dawn:
Pressing her scarred wrist against his heart
she lets the pale vein
pulse know me know me
know me