a hundred untouchable black satin curls
a handful of purple forgettable girls
a moment of lemonade after a kiss
betrayed and delicious in Senegal's bliss
the rope of your meaning a lovely old clock
rusted and rotten and wrapped in a sock
carried to thailand and sold in bangkok
and finally forgotten and smashed with a rock
the weaker beholden to belittling strength
stroked up and down the hot link of your length
delicious but rarely to stroke your black curls
purple forgiving ridiculous girls
knee-jelly afternoons rocked in a kiss
traded to mysteries, re-dubbed in bliss
carried along like the tick of a clock
rusted and rotten and wrapped in a sock.
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a return to form! nice!
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