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(a crime of passion. a cardiac arrest. i hope a little rest comes to you. cause you shine a light)
i can't remember the last time we fucked. you are already slipping away from me - slipping into my history now that you've relinquished your grasp on my now. that's a lie - now that i think about it i can remember rolling over, still mostly asleep, finding your hard cock with my hand. run my fingertips over your your balls, feel you tremor. 'baby, get on your knees'. i comply, feel you climb up behind me, run your tongue over me to get me wet, slide inside. the mornings are my favourite time the half asleep fucking not sure where i end and you begin.
is this truth? or am i imagining it all? is it a memory or a dream?
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