Deep
26/04/2026
E
ElizaLoreNovice Poet

Teeth

I live in the almost of your hands, How they hovered, How they hesitated, How they never stayed. I want you in ways, Ways that don’t end cleanly. No closure, Just teeth, and memory. Even now, I would choose you. Not for the love, But, for the way it destroys me, Slowly, Enough to feel like devotion.

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