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Lindsey Grace
Poems
Aug 2016
His
His kiss didn't taste like candy
or blooming flowers
on some "crisp spring morning"
He tasted like human
a good
hygienic human
earthy almost
like a kiss on the neck
it lingers through my senses
I am addicted to his
all of those hims
there seems to be new hims every month
a new mouth
but his tasted the best by far
Written by
Lindsey Grace
Pittsburgh
(Pittsburgh)
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