Slough
Sick sinking deeper into the mud
Hollow on the inside, black
Water taint to the lust for this
Bottled between stagnant thighs
Your wound, our sore, my inflammation
Says the mass of dead tissues
Separating us from the living. Cast
Off, we’re shedding our reptile minds
Rising up from below the surface
Our smoother skin beyond the lace
Left behind, a fragile split revealing
Our newer selves as we writhe
Toward the shine.
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