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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