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lemon, a touch too artificial sugar, a touch too sweet in an owl painted mug, a touch too hot that first sip hits like a memory it drags with it the smell of coffee black, no room and the taste of your name the sound of a coffee shop of a donut shop blood orange slices and citrus frosting and paper straws soaked soaking disintegrating the memory dissolves alongside the straw and the back of my throat burns at a touch too much
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Mar 8, 2021
Mar 8, 2021 at 9:45 PM UTC
hot lemonade, v1
lemon, a touch too artificial sugar, a touch too sweet in an owl painted mug, a touch too hot that first sip hits like a memory it drags with it the smell of coffee black, no room and the taste of your name the sound of a coffee shop of a donut shop blood orange slices and citrus frosting and paper straws soaked soaking disintegrating the memory dissolves alongside the straw and the back of my throat burns at a touch too much
The first version of this poem where I try to handle the grief of the end of a relationship and the little things that set off a memory
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Mar 8, 2021
Mar 8, 2021 at 9:45 PM UTC
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