Her Love.
As she lays her head on my bare chest, she fiddles with my sternum, talking incessantly about this world. With all her lifelike eloquence My soul is interlaced with hers, with finesse.
A woman rests her head on the speaker's bare chest, idly touching his sternum while she talks and talks about the world. The speaker doesn't interrupt or seem to mind. He listens, and in listening he feels something deeper than conversation happening: his soul becomes "interlaced" with hers.
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