F.U.C.K.
F.U.K.C.
F.C.K.U.
F.C.U.K.
F.K.U.C.
F.C.C.U.
& so forth?
Your face in a magazine,
Your head elsewhere,
Your body unattended.
Not yours.
Mine.
The light that hit you,
Bounced off of you,
Entered me.
Pornography.
It's having sex with light.
With chat-up-lines like that
You can see why I'm here,
Come-clitorised,
& perplexed re the ethicacy of
Your braless breasts.
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