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Naked, but Fully Clothed
We lie on the mountain of stone-washed denim, completely naked, yet fully clothed.
Just two new lovers addicted to sex. Or was it love? I never could tell the difference.
I melt her skin around mine forming a question mark as if she was an answer. THE answer.
Her tongue has found a home on my tightened neck. Like my breath in her hair, scattered.
Her inhale has become my exhale.
The Ameratto has left my breath, but I have never felt further from sobriety.
