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I’ve seen the palms of your hands. The lifelines, the bylines, the anything-I-will-try lines. Everything but pick-up and snort-off-a-mirror lines. I promise to love you lines. The laughing lines in the backwoods, laying in the needles of pines. Lines of opposing colors in the sweeping motions of your eyes. Eye liner dripping, too much smiling, wrinkling your skin. Tan lines, the whalebone lining the subtle shape of your bra. The lines I’ve drawn on graph paper, that curve into the fortune cookie possibility of your posture in perfect lines. Straight lines never a factor, rainbow lines the deciding feature. I’ve seen the p