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(we made love, I think. affection and attraction in equal parts) stood in the kitchen. him - waiting for the kettle. me - washing up I remember the pressure of him - hand cupping my ass-cheek fingers pressing perfectly around the seams of my jeans an instinctive, rhythmic grind - a wave I couldn’t stop if I tried voices, footfalls. the space that formed between us then - a quiet lie that’s the memory that sticks, like the tiny, star-shaped seeds my girl friends threw around on the playing field at lunchtime
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Apr 2
Apr 2, 2026 at 12:03 PM UTC
slipping
(we made love, I think. affection and attraction in equal parts) stood in the kitchen. him - waiting for the kettle. me - washing up I remember the pressure of him - hand cupping my ass-cheek fingers pressing perfectly around the seams of my jeans an instinctive, rhythmic grind - a wave I couldn’t stop if I tried voices, footfalls. the space that formed between us then - a quiet lie that’s the memory that sticks, like the tiny, star-shaped seeds my girl friends threw around on the playing field at lunchtime
ju
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Apr 2
Apr 2, 2026 at 12:03 PM UTC
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