Jennifer

Her heart throb heart throbs 340 beats a minute.

Those slit throat confessions licked by randy flames of persuasion,

The shaving of bone, the lingering taste of singed enamel.

The negatives, Jennifer.

Such uncompromising positions

I said, "You don't need a doctor honey, you need a mortician baby.

Because I don't want your money,

I don't want your favors.

This ain't no blackmail

This is for amusement.

Don't shady pasts make interesting broadcasts?

And human error is never an acceptable answer, Jennifer.

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