by C.M. Crockford
That taste of sour-red-sweet
as
seeds stick to
teeth:
sun hazes
over naked legs.
You eat more,
flush,
the ripe
burst
of summer.
by C.M. Crockford
That taste of sour-red-sweet
as
seeds stick to
teeth:
sun hazes
over naked legs.
You eat more,
flush,
the ripe
burst
of summer.
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