nice of you to say
your smile rubs
against so many
and my sex and thigh,
nutz, brain cells
and future places
perhaps a wisp of you
in distance or face
to grimace,
dimpled
In a field
blue with morning glories
chanting, choking, reminiscing
in a spot of time
not important
when your machine calls
my machine.
we let them embrace,
it's breeding.
the cause of lust is known
what follows is history
we're breeding
the cause of lust
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