Tuesday, December 22, 2009

Abstract Expressionism


The line that is my spine,
Becomes a curved,
And all that is left to me then,
Are the sharp shapes of my hand,
And the landscape,
That is your torso.
With joyous machismo,
I express myself,
In hot, now cooling jets.
And you tell me;
"Yeah. You really do cum more than anyone else I've ever met."

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