Scrambled eggs and peanut butter, 

scrambled eggs and peanut butter. 

A dark unforgiving cuppa. 

Your glossy lips…red, blistering. 

A quickie on the brown couch. 

You, taking care of my caged zipper, 

my kind of hallucination…my kind of masterbation. 

My kind of wondering amidst the prolonged wildfire. 

You have taken my night flowers…you have poured yourself with tap water…you have made yourself a corpse from these rotten roots of inflammation. 

I have a disorder of keeping every shits open… doorknobs, your black netted lingeries,

but with you it has become an echoing symphony. 

I have made this scrambled eggs for you…with pinch of salt…and with a lot of my poetic effort. 

Take it and make me drown in your erotica. 

…………………………………………………………………….

Image: Google. 

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