TURN AROUND

My hands,
One upon other,
Rest on my chest,
With you inside and beside me;
We warm the sheets but not hearts,
The love between us is dying.

Our fingers
Will eat each other,
This new phobia we discovered;
We lay beside but poles apart;
Love dies when we stop trying.

Take a turn around,
My escaping heartbeat needs to be consoled,
Our love is like a fragile kite,
Fluttering in storm,
But its thread can still be
Caught and controlled.

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