deepundergroundpoetry.com
tasting the needle
...locked in my memories tasting the needle
like a brooch at night sirring the kittle
a picture of your corpse of a fine tickle
in silk stockings as you arouse the weevil
raising the dead from the dark cold shekels
locked in my memories tasting the needle
like a brooch at night sirring the kittle
a picture of your corpse of a fine tickle
in silk stockings as you arouse the weevil
raising the dead from the dark cold shekels
locked in my memories tasting the needle
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