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Don’t think
I haven’t noticed your breath
In little catches…hitches…shudders.
Exhales that
Have nothing
…to do…
With the smoke
You roll
In your moist

Don’t think
I haven’t noticed your pretend self
Has a flatter
Belly, larger
Chest, definite
Heat more
Streamlined hair.

Or your hands,
Always empty
Needy, playful.

Eyes so intent
The performance of these lips,
Stretched around
So funny words that

(To you
All my truths
…are so…
Fucking nodding head true.)

I am telling you now,
I am addicted to our perfect ache
This sex-blue tension thinkfuck

(Your you is not all there yet.
My me is so elusive.)

No numbers, responsibilities
Sudden surprises
In this long erotic daydream,
Shape of fantastic.
No reality is found.

In pretend stuck together you are just right.

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