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Give Me Something To Feel


My blood has turned into Jack Daniels. Strange men take a ticket to the three-ring circus. The room has graffiti- covered walls and only one mattress smelling of cheap perfume and latex. Your foreign tongue battles mine. Lick my wounds, for I've been torn. The room is as hot as the space between your legs, yet a harsh chill runs up my spine when your tongue traces my collar bone. You grunt along with every beat of your overworked heart.
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