Passive aggression
Nothing gives me more pleasure
Than perching on your shoulder
Whilst you pleasure her
Cheekily nipping at your earlobes
Infesting your brainlobes
Crawling across your memories like an angry tribe of red ants
What an amazing sensation to anchor my fingers into yours
To look into the famished mirrors that are your eyes
And to see my reflection
As you salvage the sweet fruits of her flesh that will never fill you
The climax comes as you look at your own hand, realizing it is not yours
You feel him inside of me
Like I am inside of you
And the surge of warmth you feel is not yours
But another man's
I lay satisfied
As does she
But you are empty
Wondering if you will ever be able to sleep with her
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