Art, Poetry
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He fingered my asshole

and didn’t care to spit

i asked if he’d fuck in my asshole

and i sat and cried

i ran into the bathroom

and lost myself in a book

he said he wanted it the next day

i kept obliging

This entry was posted in: Art, Poetry
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My name is Michael and during my free time I avoid having a day job. Strangely enough, this gives me the freedom to run this blog. I write just about anything that can be considered art. I also occasionally post articles that may or may not be relevant to the theme of this site. You’ve been warned.

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