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Re: because

OK so my last poem was a vacant father much like its subject knew,  or hung.
Gardening makes space pretty for the people,
And the earth swallows those,
Last laugh...
The one about coffee,  this isn't Friends
It's the one about how I wake up and how breathing
Is done. Could be done. Couple coffee and lips
And then plagiarise the poem I read before this
Couplet like Juliet,
Aardvark like hamlet.
Hammer the poor bae
To his shit stain and then crisscross
Hamlets and mountains, fjord
And flume.
Countdown the hours
To when the poem was Ruin.
.Afterall, a fairytale is something pretty
And her bruises leap at you
From the poison on the nightstand
Or bullets from a teaspoon.
I can't shake the salt enough
There isn't any left in the ocean
But my arms are
So strong
And you, my love,
Could crush nails between thighs
Mooning the blood
Or sucking it from cups

18 Jun 18

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goddamn you!!!

killing it, you're a hardcore soft-gasm, you know nothing yet you know--

i love your mouth, it's blackness at the bottom.
 — jenakajoffer