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he only makes me feel worthy
when his hands are gripped around my waist,
and his tongue is falling to their place.

he doesn't mind my messy hair
or my running makeup;
he tells me I'm pretty
while he stares at my body
dressed in lace.

he loves me as an obligation;
I'm second to the lust he wants to instill on my body;

I gave him all of me,
but all he wanted was the parts of me clothes hide.

NJ2016.

— The End —