Challenge
i miss kissing people
whatever that means to you
I’m not always sure whose mouth it is
my throat is a mass grave and I’m not sorry
i want to eat a knife blade from the corner of your smile
your forearm across my windpipe, sepia fever dream, stained the color of the crook of your elbow
i stopped using straws to drink when I realized I’d keep drowning in empty paper coffee sleeves
the liquid bites my tongue, sends me tumbling through a landslide to 2018, and I reach down my waist band sweating in a too familiar parking lot
i ache against my palm
shift my mouth against a breath that’s not there
gulp down night air
wonder when the sun began to set this quick
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