Tags
beguiling sleaze, corpulent terror, dark magic fuck buddies, erotic poetry, fivefold lips, more than just spilled ink, poem, sonnet, witch's brat
We’re no burgundy brew crew; derisive
of how slow liquor takes to reach your clit.
We’ve clinched quicker means. Your conservative
spouse and his church clan claim, “effeminate
brats,” like me go straight to hell, boy. The glee
and joy we got each time we rolled your old
cuckold, sloppy drunk sick upstairs, while we
capered (plunged and hit deep, frothed your fivefold
lips, reared back to plunge again) like the brat
cats that we are: witch’s brats. Fuck buddies
with the Black Arts. Lovers of corpulent
terrors. Your husband can’t even, “begat.”
We’re progenitors of beguiling sleaze,
eldritch sex acts, love both odd and ancient.
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NOTE: Contrary to popular belief, a “witch’s brat,” is simply a male, of any age, who studies the dark arts under the tutelage of a licensed necromancer. Niccolo Paganini, the 17th century violin genius, was called, “The Devil’s Stepson,” and the “Witch’s Brat,” for his demonic and amazing musical virtuosity.