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We all deserve to be loved—

and when I say loved,

I mean desperately—

the kind of love that clings to you,

that winds you together with the sheets,

that says, when we die

we want to be placed together

intertwined, like this

that knocks on the locked door

because your lover

can’t sleep without you—

twenty years is a long time

and look what you survived

to be here—

his arms wrapped round your chest,

hands, cupping your breasts