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
With Her Nipples in My Mouth
With Her Nipples in My Mouth
When I began
graduate school,
I had that
inevitable meeting
with the painting instructor,
who asked me
to bring a sample
of my work.
"What is this?"
he interrogated me.
"It's a beautiful painting,"
I explained
as I waved out
my hand.
"Is that all
you aspire to?"
he retorted condescendingly.
"I could do worse,"
I explained
to his
unreadable face.
When I began
graduate school,
I had that
inevitable meeting
with the painting instructor,
who asked me
to bring a sample
of my work.
"What is this?"
he interrogated me.
"It's a beautiful painting,"
I explained
as I waved out
my hand.
"Is that all
you aspire to?"
he retorted condescendingly.
"I could do worse,"
I explained
to his
unreadable face.
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