tagNon-Erotic PoetryNo Ice; Shaken, Not Stirred

No Ice; Shaken, Not Stirred


Some say an angry cuckold's knife
Should be the price.
Having seared my loins with his wife,
I hold with those who'd ice my life.
But if I had to be ghosted twice
For oats I've sown and now must reap,
I hope at least it would suffice
To die asleep
And not die thrice.

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bygreenmountaineer© 1 comments/ 1865 views/ 0 favorites

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