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12 November 2013

Damascus

Damascus

the smell of stale perfume -the acrid taste of cum mingled with sweat - the compensations of the flesh - all that folding and enfolding – pressing and heaving - the menstrual stains on tangled sheets - we went eyeball to eyeball – but eyes sometimes lie - just as tongues can deceive - I grant them all a sleepy benediction - we are all free of sin - just for the night

I planned my stratagem - I’m seldom wrong - an act of love - without the context - no strings attached to my marionettes - the viper in the bosom - that would come later - no repeat viewings of my dirty treasure - I know where you been - I’ve been there too - too often to mention – but you’ll want to know

I’ll tell you some tales - for your delectation – depravity lurks in the purest of hearts – libido is damned – by too eager beavers - you ought to unwind - just let it flow - the tentative half impression I weave from the bed clothes - promises gaudy revelations that flee from the light

the road to Damascus is crowded with blind men - I seek no salvation - just a temporary reprieve - I’ll crack on then – before the daybreak - arrives like a policeman knocking your door

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