figments magic
a figment-dream made flesh
she's flesh right now I can
feel it, when she's loved,
like kisses in a porno scene
People grow fond of one another, people love
People want to be dominated,
she cries like she met the Virgin Mary
and doesn't blush, in this most inopportune...
— in that some men are weak,
and women inscrutable,
people grow fond of one another, people love.
Her skin is home to him.
His body is what she wants him to be.
Mind my hyperbole, dear reader
it serves neither of us,
not me and nor you, motherfucker,
and I have grown.
I just want to be your friend.
I'm on the outside breathing in.
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