Your warm hug
squeezed out my emotions
like toothpaste.
The gentle brush
Running under liquid sunshine.
A violent french kiss,
with the taste of alkaline.
Beaten twice a day like it's routine.
Your back molars are the tricky part.
And someday soon I'll have lost all my hair.
My color will fade,
my feeble frame will snap in two.
And you'll find a new girl.
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