juice

I have a sharp piece,

An open window, this

Rough damn night. 

Every single breath you take

And the rain coming in the window

Etch me here. 

I am a split peach or something with

More bruises. 

When you bite down the air comes in gulps. I am whatever keeps me from breathing. You don’t even see me. 

After you’re asleep I close the window and make some tea. 

It’s harder for me. 

Your stomach is swollen, 

satisfied. 

Bits of my skin still on your teeth. 

You’re full of me and I’m drained and wide awake. 

I used to think you could love me enough, hard enough, fast enough but I’ve never hit my limit and it’s not for lack of turning over and starting again.

Maybe because when you’re not in me you’re turning to stone. 

You’re rougher and

You mean it, it’s not because I’m saying please. 

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