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To Bite a Kissing Lip

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I climb buildings

just so you
can push me off,
when I feel your hands

clutching a beer.
Your cough
second-hand smoke

in my lungs,
chapped fingers
strangling a cigarette.

Maybe
I could have fixed
your broken puzzle:

Frayed edges
that feel calm
against my slashed skin.

Like condensing you
into a needle
and injecting you in my veins,
you prick.






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