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Lust is a blood-red leash

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Lust is a blood-red leash.
Once it has me
on its chain,
I'm held until it's
strangled me.

And while it holds me
on that leash,
it builds a wall around me.
It blocks out the sound
of life.

Nothing exists but feral
desires
as the collar around my neck
is tightened,
worn leather and
hot metal
cutting into my mind.





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