It wasn't love, just words, sweet prevarications whispered into naïve ears, spreading hope like legs, and filling hearts like stomachs.
I straddled your elegant word, your woven morsels of deceit. I wrapped my legs around half truths, and clung to them, drawing blood with my nails, and teeth.
With your lies buried deep, I whipped my head back, and climaxed to the sound of falsehoods, and proclamations of love. Fuck. The high was only temporary, and the truth was bittersweet.
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The Naked Hipster
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