Poem by Eleonore d’Espinose

Photography by Katarina Mladenovicova

It must have been 45 degrees in that basement 

Tongues in soliloquies 

Bodies sweating as cold morning dew wet the roses 

Scraped his knee and now it was gooey and sticky and wet and pink 

Your gentle kiss sticky with gloss

I was born again blood film plasma 

Ask yourself what’s inside 

a femininity I’ve spat on: the pink dress you were gifted by your grandmother because they never know what you like 

I drenched it scraping the color off 

Spit on it 

we sweat the same, soaked it will drip through if its tight enough

cough it up or take a swig 

make your tongue wet before you suck on it 

maybe you can bite into it or smell it 

have you ever licked your own scraped knee 

pink is salty

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