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Saturday Morning Breakfast

I am starved

depravity bounds on the edges

of estrogen deprived skin

hunger rides in the ridges

of the wrinkles around this mouth

around your mouth

and your salt

lick the wounds

do you?

should I?

that broke open

when you crashed into us

(against us?)

wait now

while we eat in this mess

of blankets and bodies

tangled up in the empty
(calories)

breaking the fast

our fast

of sex? no. maybe.

of m