Lying back-to-back
Consecutive nights averse
If only we'd stuck to our truth

Laying it off chest on chest
Like a stack of drawers
Filled with treasure

I could do my best
Stimulating discourse
As the pores feel pleasure

With surfaces less stressed
Better still, less coarse
Devoid of pressure

I'll be the guest
Through the doors
Of hardwork and leisure

Drenched on the cabinets
From depths of chores
Beyond measure 

If only we turned to
Each other with a verse
Like a vase, holding water.

Yours sincerely,
I could be
If only.

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