You taste like cigarettes and mint
When I kiss your mouth and
Lick the wounds of my own battles.
Who owns this piece of land you are,
A stranger in the night asked me once
As he tried to kill me because I was home.
You feel like cotton candy in my hands,
Sticky, sweet, I sweat as I fuck you from behind
And I never, ever moan because
My dick isn’t connected to my brain,
No it isn’t – I’d rather have that stranger kill me
Than let you hear my pleasure inside you.
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