Ninety-six: A Bit

My room still smells of your sweat.
There’s nothing sweet about it but
it grips me like your hands did a bit
earlier. Each time you look at me it’s
like I’ve been hit. I don’t know what
to do about it
, says Miss Independent.
Suddenly you are so relevant to habits
I’ve had for so long. I don’t like it one bit.

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Published by

Alexia

I drink, I laugh, I smoke, I write.

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