like childish infatuations

 

You tell me I wasn’t

your favorite,


popping the words

quickly in your mouth

like bubblegum,

and I wonder if

you just wanted candy

so you settled for a

flavor you

didn’t mind having,

and I know you like

the way I taste,

but when you tell

me you’re sick of your

favorite drink,

I wonder if it will be

me you stop

putting to your lips

next.

 

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