trading paint
Your back is turned
but I can see your face in the mirror
we're trading spit
and trading paint
When I first laid eyes on you
we'd go down this way --
mean, like animals
My hands are possessive
My hands are possessive
my mind is full of adjectives
my mouth whispers expletives
and you make the best noises
I want this to last forever
but it's just as well
this kind of forever
would bleed me dry
When your eyes open
When your eyes open
and I'm past spent
we carry on like nothing happened
we smile at ourselves in the mirror
before we say goodbye.
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