a tender trap…

adult swim
Her lips trace the hollow along his collarbone, over the inflection of sinewy shoulder, sliding down. This mouth daubed with just a gloss of sunset so that afterwards only a trace of ambition will linger.

And she is painted. 
And she is waiting for a remembering:

that She
the Me
that I was
am
here.
L
L

– Lola Moi –

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