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they say sugar makes addicts worse
than alcohol could dream of
more insidious
and taught so young
my grandmother used to pour
sugar on salad
to make her children eat it

I suppose I got the addiction
in my veins
in my very blood
my father's leftover salads

and you, why, you are so sweet
I am thirsting for your taste
I want to dip my fingers in you
but that won't be enough

I want to see your insides
want to find what lies beneath your skin

the tissues, the blood, the layers of you, peeled back until the end