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i’ve created delight. pulling my hair.
pretending it’s you.

i can pinch and know it’s me pinching
i can scratch and know it’s me scratching
i can bite and know it’s my mouth
i can lick and kiss and rub and frisk my whole body
and not be able to trick myself

but pulling my hair. i’m convinced it could be you.

i twirl. and twist.
a handful of waves // damp
bottom hair
never sees the sun // i pull.
as hard as i want to.

as hard as you would
if i told you to. (hey, a little harder next time)

i’ve created delight.
pretending it’s you, pulling my hair.

Britta B.

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