deepundergroundpoetry.com
Like Roses.
Force -feeding lies
down the narrow
pathway of my throat,
I gag and choke
on the hard, shell like
kisses pressed
against my chin.
Whispered warnings
of skin, bone,
muscles against a sea
of stained bedsheets—
and thighs made of thorns.
down the narrow
pathway of my throat,
I gag and choke
on the hard, shell like
kisses pressed
against my chin.
Whispered warnings
of skin, bone,
muscles against a sea
of stained bedsheets—
and thighs made of thorns.
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