Viejos Besos de Amantes del Pasado

We used to tease each other
about one of us
sucking on an ice cube
and then French kissing;
mixing hot and cold.

You used to wait until I took
a sip of Snapple,
just so you could drink it from my lips;
my head would fall back against my pillow,
as I smiled in the kiss.

I just ate a bag of Sweet Tarts,
and it’s bittersweet,
having sugar on my tongue,
yet knowing our mouths
will never meet
again.

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