cloudy mirrors are wiped down to erase
two dry eyes sitting on a damp face
dilating to the beat of my bass
warm hands move through the misty space
wrapping around my torso and to trace
landing solidly on his toothbrush case
curved lips smacking act as my ace
my mind walks into a familiar place
blackening my vision is the saving grace
hinges are sticky so the window stays
sandy hair is soaked and limp when it lays
the moon is cycling into a new phase
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