the dusty, digital residue of last night sticks on me like spandex and sweat
you will lift the corners of my mouth with a word, my
everything else with a wink. there are things i should
be shrugging off, shirking and sneaking around
deep troughs filled with slick hair and clipped nails
but i am not, and i don't think i ever will. i am not a shirker,
these days. i am not even a slitherer-outer.
i am a grabber-oner and i'll never let go.
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