He felt her curves surrounding his neck
Like a yoke he knows, he'll never forget
The way she cut through his bed
Like a snake would bite through a cave of flesh
But he holds her, though she's broken
He swears he don't care where she's been
He's tired of being human
He wears her close to the bone as though she were his own skin
He shoots from the heart instead of the head
His mouth and his words, they rarely connect
He looks to the past and where his tongue's tread
And he knows he's meant the opposite
Who are we to love at all?
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