Come baby, come right through me,
It has been my birth wish, it has been my voyeuristic pleasure.
I drive my car along the star studded highways and there’s this whoosh of you in my windshield,
Come baby, come to be my torn poems,
We would be infamous in our alluring endeavors, we would fight like the supernovas explosions, we would be naked all day…we would be naked in our blood, in our veins, in our shits with the essence of Dali’s surrealism.
I won’t drop you when you need to go away, fly away, save your ass away,
I would rather use that time to drive that car again,
a rocket from my guts.
A new baby, a new taste and smell and fuck and everything else.
come baby, come naked for me, swing those withholding tits for me.
Our tingling assess twirling with the…
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