white knuckles and tearing away the mystery,
bare skin collide with dark hairs,
from those dark hairs a crucifix announces itself with a glimmer,
friction riding up the saggital line that divides us,
and a sensation that activates every square centimeter of flesh, every pore.
colliding sense of control,
the creeping, crawling, clawing of arms and legs,
a gesture that both hurts and satisfies,
the cavities within each other,
like the crumbling of egos before entering a foreign domain.
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