He kisses me, the taste of sugar on my lips, and salt and spice on his.This is my heart, says the warm sugar of the vanilla.This is the inside of me, murmurs the cinnamon.This is everything that hurts, confesses the bright edge of chili powder, and everything I miss and everything I hope for.This is everything I do not say but that I hold in me, whispers that breath of salt at the end. This is my hidden heart of color and sugar, the things you might miss if I did not show you they were there.
-Anna-Marie McLemore
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