I am a minefield
awash in the most intoxicating of poppies, spoon-feeding you the last bits of sunshine before the darkness takes hold. I am a ticking time bomb, enveloped in a wrapping of velvet bound with the shiniest of bows. I am the harsh throat-burn of ginger, the unassuming looming, creeping of the tequila settling in, ready to be your soothing night companion, loosening your lips just enough to hear all your secrets. You trust me. You trust me but I'm dangerous, I'm unstable, and my mouth is slick like black ice on midnight pavement. But you kiss it like it's honeycomb and your sugar is low. And your lips, hot like the noontime sun set my armor ablaze, and for this moment, I am vulnerable. In this moment, I am tamed.
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February 2024
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