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January 18, 2014
You tell me every day, how my chest is the softest skin you have ever felt.

You say how I leave it open in the winter and covered in the heat, how I leave necklaces dangling and resting on the surface. How you rest your head in the centre and can oh so easily fall right asleep; because in the end, you're always the one who can see right through me.

You tell me everyday how you could stare at the way it rises and falls softly when I breathe, mesmerised by the gentle movements.

Oh, how you know me.