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I draw hearts in my
Barbie pink, sparkly notebook.
You, and your pressed suits.
Your weekly haircut
sends shocks to my thighs and groin
Melania knows.
This morning, I cried.
The thought of Ronald Reagan.
Feeling wet in here.
Please turn the lights off.
You shall not gaze upon sin.
God knows what we've done.
The consequences...
Glad I don't own my body.
Responsible one...
...lies in the science.
Maybe Jesus hates me too.
So ends the cycle.
In response to THE CELL, 2.16.2017
written @ the Box
with guidance and inspiration from Hunter and Max
