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The Sweet Con

She says we live in hopeless times
Condoning her con artistry
Anything to make an easy buck
A few smooth moves, then cut and run

But her lover remains a thug
Packing a switchblade and a gun
Rabid if cornered by the law
And slick in each evasive move

They are demonic when in bed
Indulging in a loaded fuck
Biting, licking, tasting hot blood
No more frets about their fragile luck.
Written by crowfly
Published
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