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The film smears over the water, orange and black, flickering : off, on, off. |
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As the summer rain fails to cool me down or clean me up, the smell of your skin takes me back to the nights & days & sticky sheets. |
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The rain mats the dirty fur of my coat into spikes. |
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Your fingers are tight about my shoulders for the last time. |
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Dissolving back into the winter & the footbeats, the sour red wine & your mouth not & stinging against mine. |
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The trees against the sky, drippling backly into our faces, my mouth fills your with the taste of cigarettes. |
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Trying to struggle may way back inside of it, wanting to savour the tiny hurts. |
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Belly-down, eyes held(?) up the miniature door : hole up tight in the dense pug(?) of vanilla incense, cigarette smoke, cannabis, never wanting to get up - all now beyond my reach. |
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Your smell mixes with the others, fades softly into the smoke, into the sheets & slips away from me. |
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I never want to get up. |