When I look at you,
Lusting,
I feel my said desire,
Tingle.
But then I realize I am,
Single.
And joy creases my face.
Lusting,
I feel my said desire,
Tingle.
But then I realize I am,
Single.
And joy creases my face.
A delinquent series of meticulous poetics for the malnourished seeker.
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