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Dec 2010
the lean stammer of long balking ***
froths diligently on my lady's bones
and it plastics a largeness heading
southern sea to lake and fire perpendicular
unraveling senses. a mire of spitted
tongues or saliva all a laminating
her magic gaggle of crumbling...
***** and notch; twin ecstatic jumbled
notes in discorded unity of tentative
lips... mymy
mym
     y
my     my mymym

                                  y
my yoke, my egg, my scorpion. ***** me quickly venom

   i'll a                       sprung!
PK Wakefield
Written by
PK Wakefield
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