She comes into my arms and I do mean that to sound like it sounds. Because before I can stop myself I half groan half sigh, and she laughs. We are melting together like hot fudge on vanilla ice cream. Melding together like a fan of playing cards in a gambler's hands. We can't stop the osmosis of heat, can't tell which is sending which the receipt. Damn, I have to go, can't stand this . . . even as we keep responding to the beat.
It can haunt you
8 years ago
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