our mind branches out
pigeons on separate journeys
to the same location
the flesh on our chests
dissimilar in shape -
in volume -
but dedicated to the same want
for that touching moment
when it's okay this time
to erect a nipple
or make lips bleed fresh blood
this is all for the wanting
the sucking and sticking and smelling
we just have different ways
of going about the asking
1 comment:
For a while now, I have been wanting to write something like this, visceral. But I didn't; you did. And yet somehow, reading it, the release feels just as good. Thank you.
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