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After this, will the kiss

After this, will the kiss you plant on my cheek at Narita Airport become a scar? The sun is rising; your hand still in the small of my back.

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At the juke joint she pulls

At the juke joint she pulls him in, breathing as slow as she moves her hips; hypnotic, naughty, hopped up on gin, this place, this man.

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Through the louvers I see Joy

Through the louvers I see Joy. Was it only last night that she’d pressed me against the tamarind tree? I touch my arm, ready to let her in.

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Pulling on the pants, she's neutered

Pulling on the pants, she’s neutered. Does it matter that she loves her breasts, even bound? She stares at her cheekbones. “I’m still here.”

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Your hands are not as delicate

Your hands are not as delicate as I expect. Your voice, it skids into octaves; the music is there. Undressing, I see why you avoid pronouns.

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