Keepin’ it real.

In the movies heat is an aphrodisiac.

The slow drip of sweat between the breasts;

a salty solicitation.

Gradually sloping down the belly,

following the curve of the thigh.

The clear juices of a fruit, ripe for picking.

In reality, it’s too damn hot.

Touch me before the mercury dips below 85 degrees,

and I cannot be held responsible for my actions.

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