cherry
picked by him, the resistance of my skin, still green
as he stripped me down to my pit and sucked it dry
rolling over molars, meat stuck between his teeth
my remains marinading in saliva and cyanide
i soured at every aspect of him, the lingering
musk of monster energy and hand rolled smokes
on his calluses as they fingered at wincing guitar strings
and pants, bought in multipacks, on the bus ride home
pleading to the ceiling, with my fingers crossed,
as the codeword innuendo for freshly spilt juice
finally applied to the little slut at sunday school, who lost
something behind the sofa on an august afternoon
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