Haven’t had sugar in my coffee
in years but ravaged many
shapely hunks of pastry
swirled and sucked and
licked and smiled with
truffle-stained teeth
and kissed her in
icy cocktails
on the lips no less
I prefer illicit affairs
to ones leaving evidence -
the paper corner of her clothes
torn off and laying
corrupt on the counter
or a couple crystals
of her body
carelessly scattered
reflecting the sins of breakfast
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