Slimy as a courted labia midway through the night.
Iight tab tipping the tongue in a haze, tripping like
The days somehow made a way for the hike
Skimming the vines in each lane, catching the beige in the light
The fray with its cold, but'd still braise with that bite
Reminding one of the tews that tend to make the way back as nice.
The wave of regret and renewed faith in the sails of your life
But still makes you crave the craze that is the pains of your heights.
__________________
Ahem.
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