Saturday, August 18, 2012

The Mating Habits Of Barnyard Animals

I love it when I stick my tongue down your throat
Sewage pours from your mouth like a junkie's last breath
And when you rummage your fingers through my guts
It feels as if there are tornadoes tearing up my stomach
We hold each other as the grass below us blisters and the world burns
Debating whether or not to throw the other into the fire

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