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Apr 2014
From across the room I watched you sip;
the ceramic lip hit mine as it did yours,
the arch of your pinkie reflected in my smile.
My mouth thirsty, as you tasted coffee
warm and biting on your tongue -
I feel it between my thighs.
You were waves crashing on December morning,
and I was daring myself to drown.
Written by
Ellen Joyce
441
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