tiny hands smear
pale pink paste
across my peeling
almond lower lip.
her sticky fingers
poke their way
inside
I don’t mind
sharp baby nails digging
trenches in the soft parts
of my mouth.
I do not mind
tasting blood,
when it’s my own
pooling beneath my tongue.
I am helpless,
hers
and I suck salty mint
muck from her offered
palm.
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