The unaltered Dropped gone Dead
Taught me Touch
And your Delicate White Skin.
He Could say, Hello, to things
Like Bumpkin, He can Dance, Alone.
Lowly worm Climbing through by think and feeling,
Like Wind, Wandering aimless, through the House,
I am something less, Your Versace Hobo, Designer Dressed,
For alley Beds and Psycho Vietnam-Vet Parties.
A Fetish for you, I Know, But seriously
I’m...
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