“Spilt Milk”
Warm milk
before bedtime
spilt before sleep
The salty tear
in a body of work
along the dark line kissed
steamed open
like an envelope
secrets laid bare
reveling in whispers
moist lipped, barely contained
lovers and their conspiracies
pulses felt
quills dipped
in the inky milk-ness of it all
Deprivation
skillfully, silkily depraved
satiate
another de Sade
dreaming
of dark nights
with recalcitrant
de Beauvoir
pandering upon his wake
The...
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