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No Caviar
Patting you on your knees
beneath a corpse of tree
listening to you weep
beneath stones
in your beddy-bye
listening to hob-knobbing
through the dark cellophane
lusting for your blood caffeine
for without my fish
there is no cunt caviar
to scale your flesh
beneath a corpse of tree
listening to you weep
beneath stones
in your beddy-bye
listening to hob-knobbing
through the dark cellophane
lusting for your blood caffeine
for without my fish
there is no cunt caviar
to scale your flesh
Published 1st Jul 2022
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