Love tastes like fresh rain mixed with the salt from my tears
spent wishing you’d live up to the potential I saw in you
got accustomed to
I dressed them up as pretty promises although my heart admonished me to see otherwise
still I tried
and now instead of pineapple kisses that used to drip off your lips
Love tastes like remnants of too many shots of tequila, a hangover I now have to deal with.
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