Bunnyhole.biz
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MISC. Poetry
:: by
T Johnson
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MOSQUITO
Unchristian fantasy moves me:
1
non-neighbourly, quiet blood-lust
begets blue secrets
curtain-casting, spider-ing.
Then, wrench'd/blown out by giant lips
5
from human-shanty-hold to sunshine
newly blinding I
discover I am just a fly.
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