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My first

I cut my teeth,

and lick my lips on your *******

in that awkward, ending light.

Our heavy breaths trade back,

and forth multi-syllabic moans

as pinpricks of metaphor

with unsure thrusts of rhyme

consume the summer, humid night

to leave us voiceless, with minds

grasping for wet, deep words.

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j
Written by
jason-needham
Published
Feb 21, 2013
Lines·Words
10·50
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