She

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Soft lips, gentle kisser.
Hair brushing lightly against the backs of my hands.
Devine royalty, am I enough?
I cannot compete in comparison.

They pin us against each other, make us battle for what we don't want.
Why should we be fighting each other?
For rough lips with tout intentions? 
Blank cold glares, no compassion?

We pin ourselves against each other.
This time, so close I feel the heat radiating off her skin.
Feather weight lips with yet the power to completely entice me.
Divine royalty, we are both enough.

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