toothpaste and oranges

she inoculated
my blank slate
against ever
pursuing one
half as perfect
unable to muster
the necessary chemicals
to ever give a fraction
of my dream to another
in any way
but temporary

her every kiss
erased the memory
of any that came
tainted the ideal
of any to come
leaving my mouth
minty fresh
as all others became
orange juice
after a toothbrushing

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