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The Intimacy of a Knife

The way you trace the outline of my mouth with your tongue
Is not unlike
The intimacy of a knife
A clogged rig full of blood
Lying next to a butcher knife on the bathroom sink
As intimate as the bruises left by another August
I remember hollow voices like threats whispered through an old tin can
You weren’t even thought of yet
You were as real as the voices
Written by nickbar (Nick Bartek)
Published
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