I kiss her fingers and
say:
you are a jungle.
I stretch,
yawn
and out falls a
knuckle.
What does love feel like?
she asks.
I turn to
cough
and out falls another.
kiss her flowered mouth
through my open teeth
speaking frankly
as she would have wanted
like a wet machete
slowly
ripping through the jungle
“camouflage”
daturamoon.com 
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