do you think you, boy,
scraped all the joy
out from between my thighs?

climbing over me in the pale
stapler's light through the bars of the jail,
a steeplechase into my pussy.
puncturing two holes in the mire
leaving behind a weak bent wire
the wounds heal, i'm not wussy.

do you think you, boy,
scraped all the joy
out from between my thighs?

"she recovers, that mother,
she uncovers every sister and brother,
exposed in her vast white expanse
developed a new flavour of adulterous underpants."
haha, i bled in them, fresh and stinging
and running through a new field, flinging
off skin and matted hair and dreams
squirting out the used condoms and your creams
scarring and screaming and laughing, away
i've uninvited you to my play.

do you think you, boy,
scraped all the joy
out from between my thighs?