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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