Friday, 30 October 2009

• can't sleep in this heat.

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  Sometimes I am sick of

  The saliva, the sweat

  Of skin broken from bites.

  Warm sticky flesh on my flesh.

   

  Sometimes I wish

  That my soul could rise and float

  Out of my body, away from this

  Too-small bed.

   

  To swim on some cool and dry air current

  Where I could exist in perfect sensual cleanliness.

   

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  • 6:40 AM
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