XXV

I have crooked teeth
Inside a crowded mouth
And I’m running out of room
Your name sits on my tongue
And escapes in my breath
You left me poetry with your last kiss
Wedged yourself into the spaces between
And no matter how much I brush or floss
My mouth will never be clean

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About VeraValentine

I am a writer who writes and chases the one thing that always seems to evade me; true love. For more insight into my mind and thoughts, please visit me on Facebook or Tumblr. https://www.facebook.com/Veravalentinethepoet http://poetveravalentine.tumblr.com View all posts by VeraValentine

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