OUR PLEASURE

in poetry •  7 years ago 


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God measures our pleasure,
like a liquid in an enclosed gradated tube,
and when we get filled – or get our fill – boom!

And this air, for one,
this very air, forces one
to get some Air Force Ones,
even if with that very force;

But she’s so strong she doesn’t break,
like he does, when she explodes.
But it’s not fun when it’s forced,

ask Philomela, she’ll tell you.


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