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sandra wyllie
Poems
Jun 2023
He Thinks
he's a silver fox.
But he lives
in a ******* jack box,
sugar coated walls
with a little toy trinket
that he bangs as meat.
How can he think it
so sweet?
Holding his prize.
Wearing a ******'s hat
Swimming in molasses lies.
Heβs twitching
in a buttery mess.
In a plate of
bra and *******
hose and saffron dress.
Written by
sandra wyllie
56/F
(56/F)
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