He beatifies his paramour tongue between legs
Spelling out phrases like "my coworker is just a friend"
You turn me on with knives and false reassurance
I have a fixation for moving into heads that need to be refurnished
We can make love on your mother's couch
When we are done
I will peek under the rug
Because letting you in is not figuring you out
We can make a home in her blankets
She wants an errand run; I want to see you naked
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YOU ARE READING
Accepting what I cannot
PoetrySynopsis After years of unresolved trauma, I have decided to write a book consisting of poetry that I have written in some of my deepest moments of self-reflection. Some bittersweet, others uncensored with raw emotion. I mention both the strugg...
