I like smelling like patchouli
and rotting fruit, so sweet
it makes you sick.
And I want you to place
your face in my palm,
let your head drop heavy.
I've been trying to heal,
pussy forward and up,
and it's not working.
So skin to skin tonight,
hand in hand, fingers locked.
Pull this knot to your heart,
and let me listen once again,
like you really meant it when you said:
Time can heal all.
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