I think about the knife,
Slowly parting
My flesh with an
Ice cold kiss,
Swiftly quenched
By the hot,
Red tide
From within.
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I think about the knife,
Slowly parting
My flesh with an
Ice cold kiss,
Swiftly quenched
By the hot,
Red tide
From within.
Posted on June 3, 2017 at 2:02 AM in Mike, Poetry | RSS feed | Reply | Trackback URL
Seductively slinky
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