would you drink wine from my mouth

All i want
is a fucktonne of pasta
and your face in the crook of my arm.
Merlot in my teapot with
a price tag too low to mention,
but the glass head on my mantle cost me
fives times as much and
the tip of your tongue rips
my calves from top to bottom
heels spilling.

You make me
feel like a long exposure,
time poses a threat to the chrysalis
bit of this new found need,
the kind you read about in blog posts
written by girls who want more
than your best.


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