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Like the toasted flour

on the surface of your favorite

Chicken Joy,

I crumble

as I see you slowly

drift away.

It's not the union of skin

or the ecstatic amalgam of

sperm and sin.

It is way too complicated.

It's the union of two famished

souls,

craving

for a space of their own.
©2008-2009 ~djai
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Submitted: May 18, 2008
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