SCRATCHED IN

You carve
your needs
into me,
one word
at a time—
the
poured
out
lust
like a liquid onyx
ink,
your fingerprints
will not
wash off.
Open mouths
of kisses
and
closed mouths
of smiles
are the lines
you write (on me)
and you punctuate them
with a red lipstick
seduction.

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