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The Lovers MAG
We were made to hunger for lips
like fingers beg for rings.
In the corner of the room
you tried to kiss me.
My skin was stretched
tight against my ribs.
“starving from a lack of kisses”
you said.
I guess that was true,
but your kisses could not fill me
and I am still sorry.
Every time I tried
to look into your eyes
they were not there.
They melted away
into black holes.
My mother would have said
your lack of sincerity
boiled up and everything in you
vaporized.
But all I could see was the
rattling of my ribs
triggered by the boy who
slept in the mornings with
too-square teeth
and a laugh like a film star.
“I just don't want you to go hungry”
you said.
I pulled a curtain down
off the wall and covered our faces
so you could kiss me
and part of me could
pretend it wasn't you.
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