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Drunkpoem 

see I'm so good for going to bed and

only kissing one prince tonight and

having me a grand old timey time with

all of em feeling in everything and

fishnets not waltzing when I walk

but bouncing maybe

certainly something stumbling

down the stairs into wild

bar bathroom yonder graffiti spells

peacock wrong and every true

soul is a truthful soul and

u r a slut


then again up the stair sinking

quadricep curve between black pinhole

fishnets black long lash thick wondering back

how long long things lasting

ramblingstonedrunken and on of my song that's for damn

sure sometimes little miss quoting Walt

Whiteman and Elizabeth Bare it Browning and cumming

curling cruder tongue gentler

at my friends over bar crowded heads

split wet funny fingers going far as

an empty mouth can I guess if we're talkin crazy

jane to the bishop can I guess mine

mind in the crowd in the can my mind

my speakeasy peach that don't give a sheet

slinging rude ridden bed words

in its own time and its home

and it's sweet and it's dawn

and it's mine

  • A poem by Elyssa Lewis.

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