A Cup of Tea

i'll fall down upon this tattered bed
and let your hands slip over mine,
let them clench and clench until blood
drips from my palms that you can lap up
with your whip of a tongue. your hips lock
onto mine while i weep something harsh,
all the flavors of my boyhood stinging
like my tears, and you slurp them up,
the way your hips drink up my pleasures.

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