She's bored by all the fetishists she finds
who write one handed. While she entertains,
they're splashing on the curtains or the blinds;
And this frustrates, because she rarely gains
insights into literature or lust;
while writing partners spurt or squelch their need;
And she can only see the festering crust
of their spilled fun, as artlessly they plead
their excuses and rush off for a clean;
She's certain their disgrace simply won't serve
the higher forms; and that the head of steam,
they built up with each climax, won't preserve
their friendship with a cultured girl, not awed
by fetishists she's found: they leave her bored.
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