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Stained

Food chewed yesterday still sticks on his lips.
Beans, meat, bread,
Something like vomit between his front teeth.
His breath smells like spices
and cigarettes.
His mouth staining
her dishwasher liquid skin.
His mouth, recounting
last night's stains on soapy sheets,
to his rotten food mouthed friends.
Beer, laughter, curse, curse, so much cursing...

Their mouths
stain
our washed up names.

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