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Nov 2013
she thought she knew her ways

and a wild ***** came out of

her mouth and attacked me

and soon good days had flashed in her

and she sat there eating wild strawberries that were bleeding

on her tongue

a red cold sweet tongue touches my tongue

you don’t watch my  eyes wide

my eyes go the way of Sartre

and you tell me I finally

look crazy.
prose
love
John Beetle
Written by
John Beetle  London On
(London On)   
831
 
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