# Untitled 45 (Thirsty)

by ThisIsShe|Mags

a549f3f8f09bcaef2d49abbec8521191

©

I remember the taste –

the thirst.

Wet and wondrous.

                        (Parched)

for necks.

Churning with delight

as lips

stroked bibs

on heads.

                                                Hung-up.

Lapping on hydration

                                                     and (hope).

Should I dip again?

Or swallow impulses

to spill.

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