Mirth

dungeon

I taste your sex on my tongue like cold salami.
Sex on my tongue

Your tongue had never been so unscrupulously slutty
Unscrupulously slutty.
(And still you smoked afterward.)

Are we conscious in the dungeon of our pleasures.
The dungeon smells

Smoldering peat, soldering guns, shouldering guns
Smells the dungeon.

Sex in all its force wrecks the mind in total.
Smells wreak terror.

We return again and again to the kill, gnawing
Its rancid sinews.

No smell too strong for hunger, for raw survival
Sex on my tongue must taste.

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About Pitboss14

Cosmic surfer of paradoxes.
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