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Jan 2018
You call, I answer.
I know what you want.
You come and we sneak upstairs.
Children seeking shelter in the night.
You kiss me.
And I smell it on your breath.
You hands find their way
Underneath my clothes.
And I sense it in your clumsiness.
We undress and you stumble.
You find me through your drug induced haze.
We lay together and you don't say much.
Sleep finds you.
And I find myself,
Crying on your shoulder.
Wondering why we have such different
ideas on what it means to feel alive.
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