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familiar
I unzip,
discover my
cock is
glass.
So delicate,
less than a
sixteenth of an inch thick.
It is moulded
perfectly.
I cannot tell
who did this,
when it became
glass.
All the veins
are there, all
details correct
as far as I
can see.
She cannot see it
and I am still
in attendance with
her.
Her hand lowers,
the familiar walk
downstairs.
One touch of
her finger
and the tissue
thin glass
cock
breaks.
But it does not
hurt.
There is
no blood.
I am free
of this.
At last there is
nothing
to prove.
And I can sleep the
sleep of
kings
from the
centuries.
Copyright
@ Michael Curran, 2006
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