Non-Erotic PoetryJane Eyre HeadsKnocks from the attic.
Stop intruding on paradise.
They keep tossing rocks and
hammering the windows. The house
longs to swallow. Consume and
drink. Those women like the taste
of blood & challenge the smiles of
savagery. The glances; potential in
a darker discovery. Sweat beads.
A headlock or a cup of tea.
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English
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