J Mills

Love is Not a Bumble Bee Trapped in a Wild Flower–

Quite some time ago
I woke up
My own drool-drenched hand
Tucked under my face
I still smelled
Like the previous night’s sex
You remained on my fingertips
While I contemplated
If I ever truly wanted to hold you
In the palm of my hand
The notion seemed too restricting
And grasping onto you
Not an act of love
I’m sorry if I ever
Made it feel that way

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