BlumenA Poem by L'Enfant Terrible
What type of softness will make you open?
Were you close would I tear the coldness?
Can you lace desires in their own place?
Call to your case, cut your damn face!
Got any use for someone to abuse!
Go better, would I recluse to puke!
You quickly kill and lick them w****s.
He has the chills, implores the rentboys.
Our breasts is where soreness fades away...
© 2012 L'Enfant Terrible
Waiting For The Sirens' Call
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