lips to lips
like muzzle to muzzle
trace of voices
beneath bedspreads
of fickle affairs
A bad taste
in my mouth
I got used to
effortlessly traversed
from one to another
a tedious route
seeking myself
in many others
discovered a trace here
in her pain
encountered my fear
in his eyes
uncovered a trail
in her secrets
I stumbled upon
the zenith
of consummation
the loss
the liberation
solely mine
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