Gash.

More than flesh and blood can stand

I covet your wound.

I covet a cherubic hand

Whose bearer’s soul now ruined.

 

Do not intend to share it, don’t.

A conceit may I well be

To let my yearns face ebbings-I won’t

I crave your Gash in me.

 

Fantasised all my life, I did

To be now worth your love

To be now worth your love, I did

Fantasize did all life, my love.

 

I was not a reason, no.

Now in my arms you lay

But I must be a reason for

Your winsome and merry sway.

 

Your lust and warmth is a mere blind.

Merely know who we are

I’ll weep now, reader, please don’t mind

And feel us from there afar.

 

Do not intend to share it, don’t

A conceit may I well be

To let my earns face ebbings-I won’t

Please carve that Gash in me.

-kush

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