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Just to see what it felt like, I took wax
from the stove and dribbled it, sluggishly,

through my thick pubes. Some say that they climax
quicker with pain. But the world is squirmy

with quick fucks. Tomorrow I’ll shave this mess
before work. Three years, gone — like that. Some say

that all they want is a slit-buzzed caress
from a talented tongue. The term, “foreplay,”

insults, who needs more than long lapping? Wrapped
up, as tight as we are — it’s a damn myth

that we somehow found peace. All my devout
prayer to your shaved stubble has left me chapped,

bleeding. This is not for me — and so, with
a jerk of the hair, I pull it all out.