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  • dearabi

The Last Again (again at last).

I can still smell you on my mouth. Not even this shower could get rid of your taste. All over my chin, from sloppy but sweet drunk kisses in the wind. There is sand everywhere. In my socks, in my ears, in my hair. From when you wrapped it around your fist, pulled my face into yours, and I pretended you meant everything you said when you were inside of me. I think I could drink you everyday. Sip some of your time, and spit out your lies. As you pick me up, and fill me in. Up, and down like the way I feel for you. I unfortunately feel for you. And it’s annoying as fuck. I shouldn’t even be here. You shouldn’t even be here. On top of these dunes, and underneath the stars – naked next to me. With your arm around me as if you don’t want me to go. Stroking my hair while I stroke your ego. It’s not surprising at all. Yet, I can’t believe it happened again. I pretend not to care. And remind myself where I was and who I was with just two days ago. And when I feel bad about that I remind myself of who I’m with right now. Wait, what did you just say? Drunk or not, I’ll take it. With my tail in between my legs and heart bleeding on my sleeve. I don’t love you too.

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