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close your eyes i said

i drip honeycomb on your sleepy tongue; you
bite my nipples. bare mattress we are
wet puppy whimpers, kissing you is
every small town carnival, beer breath sticky
salted gulps of caramel and
rollercoaster butterflies, your sweat
smells like my grandmother's bread

in morning i am all mouth, you are
every sound beating coconut milk
past my pink vocal chords, a
wistful murmur: that doesn't count
as making me breakfast, so you know

dirty blonde hangover in blue
boxer shorts, you feed me barefoot:
thyme honey, fresh basil, sweet green
tea, bruschetta that i would swear off
peanut butter for, for life

i am surrounded by cookbooks, all black
underwear and pink painted toes, chocolaty
tobacco clouds snaking smoky blue nebulae round
your tired head, you say, food is the only
thing i still love in this life

last week you told me you loved me.
but the taste of your spaghetti makes me blush,
so i don't correct you. it's not nice to talk
with your mouth full.