deepundergroundpoetry.com
fuck censoring
i already know
your black bedsheets
how your
coffee skin
melds into
white clouds,
how your pupils
widen & annihilate
as i lay down
drinking from
your river
my fur
becomes hot
my tongue
bursts into fire,
this is our bed;
i hear
our pining
in the early
hours
inside
cemented
words.
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