Erotica & Melancholia


soft pellet 


glint hits 


a smile secretes 

paws maul mollusks in tiny-pulsed beats,

filtered tongue reciprocity

in this cold, 

I dream of Spring,

and search for warmth between hips

spat from the echoing wooed tempo brawl 

of lovers sprawled,

a protocol to gape,

a tap will show you if I’m dead,

or in suspense

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