Her and you
I heard you tasted me on your lips like an aftertaste
and spat her out
its not my fault
that our tongues
curled around each other
performing love language
french kiss
interwining of words
Of me
that pitter patter upstairs
moves boxes in the shelves of your heart
we ..... ..long and drawl out
we .....a holy martinony of A soul with another soul
before there was her
there was me
\
/
/
:(
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