My love is a madness
That I dare not to control
And the object of my affection
Has not forgotten to anchor my soul.
At moor I rest assured without caress
Teasing the names of a motherless jest
Baking drug cartels in muffin tins for breakfast
Searching the earth for a frostbitten mistress to be my bridesmaid.
I titillate my bed to the left and hold in my right hand a pen
To write my darkest secrets down
That I make famous on the internet
For every Tom, Dick and Harry to scrutinize blatantly.
Come and fuck wit me Darryl, I dare you.
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