Erotic PoetryDick Nite SpoonThe first girl I loved threw me
back into the stream
like an undersized trout.
I settled down in a slow eddy,
and wept salt
into the cold, fresh water.
In time, I ran dry of tears and tracked
gnats and flies,
for I was still hungry. I grew
fat and wily, sure
of her whom I chose to strike,
wary of too shiny lures.
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