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Cherry picker

by circa-1994

I’m looking at your mouth you’re looking at me, my fingers curled around the blunt your plug has graded as a “pearl” we’re passing notes with her eyes and you’re playing it cool, that is until your eyebrows give you away – springing up towards your skull. I find an excuse to say “cunt” so you’re thinking of mine as I push wet fruit between my lips, still hot from the smoldering I sense the very moment everyone else in the room catches onto our game. lowering my gaze as a hit goes straight to my face the smoke clears my fingers linger dangling the roach over your water glass I let it fall Ash hisses as if to whisper “it’sss cassshh.”
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Written by
circa-1994
Jamaican
For You?
Written by
circa-1994
Jamaican
Published
Jul 18, 2017
Time
1m
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