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Infinite Monkeys. Infinite Typewriters.
More in Dregs & Other Unreadables that dirty poem I've been meaning to write for yousomewhere far away
a woman reads my words laughs musical laughter into a symphony of sex and arousal i can not ogle her or grope her lick her or sing along my face is not between her legs sniffing the musky pink and humming on her clit somewhere far away a woman reads my words sighs at the crescendo of our might-be-love and wonders if this is the dirty poetry I wrote for her. |
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