When you described your clit
as a boat, I'm sorry for devouring
the crew of your nerves; I pluck
splinters of your labia from my teeth.

What do you expect, summoning me
with the Poseidon colored bra and
panty set, directing me with your
incantations while on second base?

I will wait for the plastic surgeon
to rebuild the mermaid, lash it
back onto your mast; we will moan
like a village of widows.

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J. Bradley lives at iheartfailure.net.