We were standing in the sunlit tower,
like peaches.
juice
dripping, dribbling
down our necks, between
the floorboards
sap clouding our vision, we were connected by thread
fingertip to fingertip, toe to toe.
it was as if we were sitting
almost ripened
while sharing well-pitched nouns and verbs
between every gently pitted, murky glance.
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AND ACTUALLY NO THIS ISN'T ABOUT SEX GO DIE
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