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May 2020
My finger tips pour into the indents of your ribcage as I hold you tight ear to chest,
Your heartbeat pounding against my eardrum like the sea spilling from a conch.
Lacing fingers plucking at your skin like a harp.
We share the same air in this tight pocket of intimacy.
Your lungs expand as mine contract, a silent exchange.
You fill my chest with thorns it hurts to breathe, choking on the heart making its way into my throat.

My bones ache with sweetness, decayed by the sugar you force down my oesophagus.
You're such sweet poison.
Bea Burnett
Written by
Bea Burnett  20/Non-binary/London
(20/Non-binary/London)   
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