Am I her?

She won’t let me rest.

Not until she reaches you.

Until her words

pour out

my lips

my breasts

my heart

my hips.

They’re not my words.

They’re hers.

She’s relentless.



She’s breaking me apart

to get to you.

She wants us to be together.

I do too.

Am I her?

. _ . _ . _ .

(photo credit :: Rostyslav Savchyn)

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