Burts Bees Chapstick

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Mine was mango butter flavored
It tasted like sixteen. So fitting.
I’d set it on nightstand
and put it on after the skin
surrounding my lips was raw
from your scraping stubble.

Yours was the traditional peppermint.
It would sit in the pocket
Of your kicked off jeans,
Laying on the floor- you peeled
The label off. Always.

I saw the molten yellow,
Label-less,
Tube, Mom.
It was in your bathroom drawer.
You swore it was a
tequila incident.





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