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Acid

February 11, 2013

Twentynine_Palms_SELF_-_USGS_22_May_1994

Honey, you’re so very young.
Your blood and breeding, let it run.
Through your hair.
And down your back.
Between your legs.
Onto my tongue.

Filthy rich and infamous.
Doused in perfume.
Drenched in sweat.
Itching with your dissonance.
Drunk on charm.
Unquenched and wet.

The things I want, you’ll never know.
I sit and watch the blossom grow.
Not quite like the other boys.
A little slow, a little coy.
Here’s your ticket and here’s your show.
But please don’t think the doors are free.
Every line I ever wrote.
Was a line I slipped around your throat.

Because I want to watch you want me.
I don’t want your body or your lust.
I only ever want to see.
When you love me and I leave you.
Your beautiful backbone turn to dust.

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From → Poetry

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