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Sunday, May 15, 2011


Where did these come from?
Just laying next to you
and holding you hand
and feeling your fingers stroke along my fingers.
My heart kept doing a combination of stopping and pounding. 
I still smell you on my breath.
Morning breath.
The one things I'm paranoid about.
It would be.
Your hair is soft.
Your intentions are innocent and sweet.

I love you.

As a brother.
A brother who gives me butterflies.
That's awkward.
But still.
Just a brother.

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