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Thursday, March 10, 2022

A fort of wood. A time so long ago. Flashes of memories come to me now. It was the first time I learned how to be myself.

Exposed. Lips pressed. He was in my mouth. I was in his mouth. I was on top. It was such a small space.

No regret. It was the first time I dreamt of being with another boy but he wasn’t a boyfriend.

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Categories: Fiction poetry short story writing

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