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summer air tastes better with a lover

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You taste like cigarettes,

and sour gummy crawlers,

and london dry gin.

Your lips were soft and sweet,

slightly chapped in a way that reminded me

that you're real.

You ashed on my shoulder

and I pushed you off the step

where we sat

growing a pile of butts, roaches,

and candy wrappers between us on the concrete.

You simply smiled back up,

white teeth that were too often 

stained red, or burying themselves 

in my neck and shoulder. 

Yanking You up between my legs by your 

stupid soft bleach blonde hair

pressing a gentle kiss to your temple.

"Asshole,"  You snorted.

I know You burned me because

my head was floating away and

You wanted it to stay right there beside you.

Ghosting my mouth over your petal soft

ear, silver cartilidge stud hidden by

your stupid stupid hair.

 

It wasn't just the nicotine

that made You so addictive.

You plucked your cigarette

from between my fingers,

Your black nailpolish chipped,

shining slightly in the porch light

a firefly lazily drifting close,

touching down on your shoulder

before joining its fellows in sparkling dance.

You relaxed between my legs, 

resting your head on my 

thigh, tracing swirls through 

my jeans, exhaling the smoke slowly.

I love the way You breathe

softly against the back of my neck

as we sleep, sweaty hands

tangled together in the sheets.

"I don't think you hate me"

"130%, Junkie"

I breathed in your shampoo.

You grabbed my hand pulling

it down onto you chest

squeezing tight.

"I love you too."