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Chris Chaffin
Poems
Jan 2021
Five
–the press of your hand
on the small of my back
the taste of your sweat
mingled with cheap beer
the smell of Old Spice
on freshly shaved skin
the delicious crack of my skull
against our old headboard
the sight of your toes flexing
and curling in pleasure–
I hold onto these things
as you are letting go.
Written by
Chris Chaffin
48/Cisgender Male/Vancouver, WA
(48/Cisgender Male/Vancouver, WA)
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