Thursday, March 30, 2017

The lovers

Stuff goes soft in the fridge.
The faucet in the bathroom drips.
The house sends out sighs.
Tries to pry them loose.
They mate, a tangle of limbs and mouths and genitals.
Like animals, that know no boundaries, they mate.
Wrapped in each others' fluids, they refuse to get up, from the bed they have been in for days.

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