~ a poem ~
You feel like a drug.  
The rush 
at just 
the smell of you.  
The high 
when your hands 
are on my body,  
when your lips 
touch mine
and we kiss.  
God, when you're inside me.  
It's almost... 
almost too much.  
I feel like 
an addict, 
always craving 
the high of you,
the high of us 
together.
I can't stop 
thinking about you,
your hands,
your lips,  
my next hit.
  
How much will I get 
this time?  
Enough to last 
the night?  
A few hours?  
Or maybe just 
til you leave.  
And then I'll sweat 
and shake.  
I'll ring my hands 
and pull my hair.  
I'll wonder: 
What can I bargain? 
What can I do 
to have more of you?
You are my drug.  
I am your addict.  
And I don't ever 
want to kick the habit.
Zohran Mamdani Will Win Because He's Showing How Hope and Joy Works Against 
Hate and Division
                      -
                    
Have you really taken a few minutes to look at the campaign of Zohran 
Mamdani, the Democratic nominee for mayor of New York City? Because lemme 
tell you:...

So eloquent and lovely and needy
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