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Kissing I kissed you while you were asleep dreaming of breasts like cereal bowls. Because of you, I knew I would love men forever. Even though we fought like Cowboys and Indians, your lips were like marshmallows that sent off a chain reaction of wondering if you were cut or uncut, and how good your ass would really feel in the hands of a 12 year old. Now at thirty three you live with your mother after losing a house and two girlfriends. You're a sanitation worker for the city. Your life is paint drying, but I still remember kissing that soft mouth of my aunt's oldest son.
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