Delightful Drought by A. Cyr

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Before she left for college,
we played stripped Twister
on sweaty summer nights
that set the forest ablaze.

I tucked her dark bangs,
kissed her olive neck.
She squirmed when I tickled her.
I’d call her name and throw
a pillow at her head.
Her eyes sought to bury me alive—
then she’d smile.

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