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Shakespeare's Monkeys

Infinite Monkeys. Infinite Typewriters.

More in MosquitoBytes Volume 03: Ensanguined Quiescence - 2005

Quench

Amaranthine Fetish

I sit here
Rampant as I think on you
My mind enfolded in yours
As our words collide
Perverted from meaning
Bereft of pain
And through it all
That smile remains
Yet I don't think on our sex
For then I would distract
And though it would ease
I'll live with tease

© 2005, Mosquitobyte

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