fingers like detectors, lips like old photographs
you might lose your guts
when i tell you
that you were the last.
the last hungry taste
the last sweaty embrace
the last mess of limbs and moans.
And it's not because you were there -
it's because you've always been there.
when i tell you
that you were the last.
the last hungry taste
the last sweaty embrace
the last mess of limbs and moans.
And it's not because you were there -
it's because you've always been there.
1 Comments:
K, this is brilliant.
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