I kissed you from the
dusty curb underneath
the guard rail.
How I ended up here,
I’ll run through my mind
over and over until I
trace it back to that bottle,
those glasses shining
from the fireplace mantle.
my mouth was full
of ink and everything
I pressed my lips on
remembered me
from class, or high school,
or the checkout line
at the grocery store.
I shift in my shoes.
I didn’t mean to write
all these stories
with my kisses.
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