Lusting Lust – Duet (ft. T. Lee)

Your hands placed on my chest
all digits spread across breasts.
Feel my heartbeat skip at the sensation,
of your finger's grip causing palpitations.
The emancipation proclamation,
of an emotional connection.
(T. Lee)
*(says connection at the same time)* 
is all we really want 

to avoid
whenever we remember how this usually plays out 

Your friends won’t like me
and the ones that do 
like me a little too much 

My friends won’t like you
and the ones that do
Like you a lot too much. 

In the beginning,
You’ll remind me
I’m a work or art. 
Somewhere between 2 to 4 years 
our bright red nuance fades out to gray, like your favorite shirt,
I mean your shirt, that’s my favorite 
to wear.
-washed too many times
it used to have stains from the first food festival we went to,
but those left,
I used to wear it, but I’ll leave too 
when you tell me
I’m a real piece of work.
and that my art is shit. and that you’re tired of this relationshit.
Shit. At least you never hit me.
with anything other than words, or silence

But back to our regular programming: 
We’re anything but quiet tonight. 
aren’t we.
Because our past stories are wiped clean,
like your internet search history.
A clean slate, to make new memories without debate.
Only holding on to what makes us shiver and quake,
I see you’re hesitant to get on-top of me.
So hear this plea, “TEACH me something, anything.” 
Because I yearn for these ears to burn,
by the drowning drone of your echoing moans.
So, dismiss the rudeness of my Australian Kiss,
that makes you flounder, from these smooches down under.
Sorry, pardon me for speaking too directly.
It’s just, that….

You’re doing something to me. I can’t explain it.
Should I hate this?

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