poetry critical

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mouth full

like a well oiled piston
i ascend and descend
without delay.
eyes locked on me
for once
he smiles proudly
as if he is experiencing
the pinnacle of German
sometimes i act possessed
go from angel to addict
in six seconds or less
which usually motivates
his hands to smooth my hair
with a tenderness
rarely expressed and
guarantee a twenty on the dresser
before i rinse.
nothing to unconvince me
he always likes me more
when i am silent.

there'a porsche on your dick but you drive a fucking kia

27 Aug 12

(define the words in this poem)

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