Death Notes

a question for the girl
who put it all out on the table
like a feast, smiling
over her offerings,
in short,
a question for the
burlesque performer
I saw in New York
last Tuesday-

did you mean it?
can I have some?
can I come and
pick you up?

a death threat to the
burlesque performer!
a death threat to the girl
who dared to say no
or nothing at all
I will be at your next show.

a thousand calls
for the burlesque performer
for that cunt,
that bitch
a thousand facebook messages
and pictures of dicks

death notes, death notes,
all of them.
Cum is mixed with blood
in the American men
who come calling

my cum is mixed with blood
for the burlesque performer
I saw in New York
last Tuesday,
I know I could have her
she was right
within my reach

and she will be again
I will be there
next Tuesday
or waiting,
on her street
she can
wait for me
she can try
to sleep.

5 thoughts on “Death Notes

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