Coming in Threes

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There are two rogues

that invade my dreams

 

Their touches are featherlight

they skim up my body

with nails scraping

teethed bared

 

Humorless chuckles that echo

on each part of these four walls

making the blood in my veins storm

 

They utter words of praise

devotion drips from their lips

while tongues of worship

melt on mine

 

Their words cut through the air

 

Wicked taunts lick its way across

my body in the form of a hand

rough calluses coupled in with

obsidian eyes

sadistic smiles

 

I want them to swallow me whole

have those little malignant spirits

reduce me to ash

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