The boundaries of my blood sink me down below the horizon where your eyelashes rest against your skin, and when your eyes flutter open, I can't help but be startled. You are so uncovered, and I am so obscured, and for years I thought it was the other way around. You put your fingers to my pulse, but I am counting aloud, and our beats do not match up. It scares me to think, much less admit, that you might know me better than I know myself. But the truth is, maybe you do.
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