Post Coitus Rock

Joan Of Arc

Skin and eyes.

Skinny skinny.

Naturally glamorous. So

naturally glamorous.



A couple cold

hammers. A bag

of cut hair. Say

fuck a lot. Shades

of Dorian Gray.



So in like

in lost in

you like

a talking

cornfield.



So close

your

eyes. Explaining

colors

to the blind.



Every gesture.

God, licking

and spit

gently. Could

groan forever.