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They’ll Wash Me From The Grill Like A Fly Sean Bennett |
They’ll Wash Me From The Grill Like A Fly I toe the road Waiting, I have my first ever kiss Blood knotted in my heart And mind. I flirt with each vehicle That passes: Which one? Which one? Which one? Will apply me, Like a smudge of heated lipstick To its teeth? Eighteen years more than I wanted or asked for. This wont hurt. Sean Bennett [Return to Psychopoetica home page] ©The contents of this page are copyright protected.
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