you thought i needed to be told nice things

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i look so beautiful under the stars 
with your sultry papaya fingers
matted around my mahogany hair
as i pry the hem of my dress
over my waist and bare my lower
half to myself, not you

i see myself in the rear view
mirror of your car and watch
how my scalp leaches serum
of a seraph's peck and flood the
backseat in maya blue,
smearing me in a dream

"hermosa"

you tell me i look good like this
i know i do

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