It is an honour to bring ambiguity into your home;
those odd percussive shelters
that face off against the nether.
Like you stand a chance.
I’d choke you for a handjob and a half of mild.
You couldn’t make this shit up. You never
really had a clue.
Just cop a feel and
you’ll shoot your load
and
never comprehend
those shallow breaths.
Could it be that you have a head
full of broken glass?
If you ever
touched yourself
you couldn’t tell.
When the end comes you’ll whimper my name.
Go off with a bang when I press that button.

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