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I want to know how her lips look



when she’s just about to sigh from



a long day of over-thinking–



I wonder if she lets them bloom out into



the air. forgets that the slightness of the



overbite peels the skin back from the bottom bud; lets



her mouth waver open before crushing them anyway.



I wonder if she picks it away with her teeth, the skin–



thinking of a man who has done her wrong.



and I hope she swallows the flakes whole like



wilted petals



and forgets him.