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Aug 2014
you have to put me back now.
there are always better things to come. she taught me that.

honey i want to lick you clean. from stem to seed. roots and all. meaty juicy mess darling i want you in such sick. wicked ways. torturously sordid. crumbly needs.
babe. dreamer. lover. love freak. freaky love affair…
you just can’t make it ! don’t you try !
getting these silly ideas into the brain space you know you never had. chaotic.

blooming inside me are worlds unbeknownst to you. and when i asked you to ask me questions about my trip. my past. my worlds. you lied down and smoked a cigarette.
as if it were a chore. as if loving me was a chore. caring for my lovesick body.
if i knew how to make a tincture of your scents i promise you i’d never see you again.
woke up toiled and troubled in the sweaty scent of you. your *** still staining my lips. my cheeks. my chin. we had a feast.
and went to bed fevered. desiring. crawling in the sweetness of you.
cradled by the idea of you. our next meeting.

i am somewhat apprehensively coming to you with open hands and a heavy heart. you see, there have been all kinds of adventures hidden in the soles of my feet.
but mostly in the tips of my fingers. ***** under my fingernails. worn wanderers.
passed far far into crevices of non reality.
Deana Luna
Written by
Deana Luna  Seattle, WA
(Seattle, WA)   
416
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