Monday, 26 November 2012

your ooakish heart

stuntman,

you are stunted, a Rumpelstiltskin skin
stretched taut

over your undersized heart

and that arrow of yours:

it squirts venom and spunk
in no particular order sometimes

all junked up. A short, salty
path down an open throat
can lead a derelict pussy
astray and then save her, to betray her
on a later day.

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