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strange beds (1983) (Free verse) by Bill Z Bub

Her parent's bedroom, I assume, from the smell of stale perfume. A charge, a socket surging. Thin and bruised from play in those high summer days, with her sister's boyfriend's praise. She jumped to try and pin me down. And the bed collapsed. Then we ran.

INTRANSIT 23-Dec-02/2:11 PM
S-3 cornfuses me a bit. I am getting young lust from it though.




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