Stalactites

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The cavern that is your back
Looms above my pregnant mind
The persistent drip is burning a hole in my scalp
Sorry I am, for the blood that may drizzle
It seems as though all control has exited this vessel
And floated atop your back, like a wool blanket, i fear you will find to be irritating
Causing a brackish rash
If, you wish
I will sooth it with aloe from my belly
But it is so dark in this cave





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