Gallery

We Get


You get me.

Hard,

yet nothing worth having

comes easy.

I get you.

Wet,

mentally man lip you

waiting,

to rub me

all the right

ways in,

not to be left out

or alone

to your own

devices.

Duets begin with two

by foreplaying twice,

or staccato plucking

heart strings

fingering

no frets

and beating off

rhythms

on frontal lobes.

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