Lover?

Lover?

I don’t want to hear you beg I’m sick of beggars If you are a man take what you want from me or what you can. Even if you have me like some woman across town you think you love. Look at me Standing here with my penis as straight as yours. What do you think this is? The weather cock on a rooftop? We sneak all over town like two damn thieves, whiskey on our breath, no street lights on the back roads, just the stars above us as ordinary as they should be. We always have to work it out, walk it through, talk it over, drink and .. read more

On August 16th, 2016, posted in: Poetry by Tags: ,
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