A poem
The shoulders I've set my head upon
The foreheads I've pressed with my own.
Each different
in ways I don't remember now
Can't be bothered to remember.
The sum of all is only just a feeling
A collective love
Warmth and satisfaction
What I choose to believe
when I think of my fingers
entertwined with each.
Strong hands
Of weak men
Stronger hands
My own.
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