I’m drinking again
And all I can think of is her
It’s cold outside
And the warm melted cheese of my quesadilla
Embraces the foamy amber
I keep talking about the time I fell in love
And even though I know my friend is tired of me talking about her
Fuck him
I don’t care
I get poetical when I’m drunk,
I dream of my waitress giving me blowjobs,
In that perfect way, she used to
The way she would roll her tongue and sometimes use the sharpness of her teeth…
Nothing like the threat of castration
To get harder
She pulled me closer, and I told her my chemicals were for her
Only her
And her skin was meant for me to puncture
And draw monuments to
The way I used the red pen
No one else will know how to
I…
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