The desirous believe





The desirous believe
(poor idiots of hope)
that someday a man will create
a signature drink made of
a thousand breasts and a sea stupor
compelling our thighs to tremble.
They think saliva men will show
their luminescent tongues
and open our eyes
to a brave new beginning.
Dazzling man, refugee in a fire
without end― Then we will not
be able to move. Our flesh long
and wide, desire satisfied,
will be appeased forever.
We'll lose our eyes
and never be the reflection
of insanity again.

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