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Yenson Apr 20
What does a Prince
have in common with some fake stooge
pretending to be an Asian in Mumbai
but for oxygen
Prince doesn't need a Chia Wallah
and they belong to differing caste
stay below as you've always been
you are not important
This is about Rajarandu  Bandirajastan, a poet that attended a poets workshop I was at, who writes the most ridiculus poems and seem to think he makes sense, he was an old colonial servant who was slimy, sly and has pretentiousness in abundance. I have since discovered his brother visits this site and hopes he recognizes his sibling.
Little lady,
calm yourself.
  Sit up straight,
  fix your brows,
  swipe your lipstick on.
Baby girl, you shaved off (almost)
all of your hair.
When you did, you killed
you killed
you're always killing
that thing you call a heart.
That guy murdered you in ways you never thought,
but you're steel and velvet reborn, little lady.
Honey, you've handed your body
to strangers.
Thank God, they didn't leave you bruises
but took parts of you
and now you're lost again
(smoking Marlboro Reds to breathe again,
**** a stranger to feel again
I'm dying inside again.)

Well, look who's just arrived,
too good to be true.
Too sweet to be real.
Too raw, does he lie, though?
He makes you feel like tulips in Holland
(I've always loved them.)
He knows what your diamond mind
what it says and how it runs,
(I'm trying to make myself sound smart)
He knows how you smile and laugh
(I try to hide behind a mask, happy looks pretty on me)
He makes you feel golden, when the sun kisses the desert
(Bahrain sands, gold souqs)
Oh the things he says,
baby girl,
look at you.


Just ******* look at you.
He's telling you all the things he wants to do,
your body moves to the rhythm
and now you're slick,
the velvety folds, mmm
they're dripping in anticipation
(God I ******* want you in me)
His words make you
want him
need him,
making love from sunrise to sunset,
and moaning,
grunts and screaming
biting his skin
his teeth graze your *******
and you want more.
The furniture was not spared
cracks, scrapes, our clothes are on the floor
all we need is today, tomorrow, every day.
This won't be raw *******
you believe, honey.
you're believing baby girl,
you've believed, little lady,
he's going to make you feel loved

despite all your broken pieces,
you're still in disbelief,
7,520 miles away
it feels like he can touch you still.
The chemistry, this ******* chemistry.
You're air, so is he.
But together, you will be fire

These legs, they can't sit still
they can't keep up with the distance;
sitting properly does nothing
when he's there and you
you're all alone here.

the four corners of the room have never known
the distance of two beings
the universe is inside their bodies

coming together
making a new world

I want to scream your name
in pleasure,

until we fall asleep

and do it again tomorrow.

— The End —