Synthetic Lust
The thread between him and me feel synthetic,
As he weaves its fabric with rush,
As he makes frantic efforts to chop the distance off,
As his desperate hands tighten the clasp,
He craves and drools over the smoothness of my skin,
My raw body feels it's pressure,
Bruising tender arms and muscles
I wake up to deep scars and marks,
And wonder to myself if that's what love is all about?
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