Ant Smith

All poems

One of us

I married your ribs you know
I even married your spit
I married all of your
rounded sexy bits

I married your tits you know
I even married your hips
I married all of your
active finger tips

Let's fuck like we are fucking,
A pair of fucking twins
Let's make believe we two are one
Eight legged fucking freak

I married your sweat you know
I even married your pores
I married all of your
zits and weeping sores

I married your shit you know
I even married your juice
I married all of the
vomit you produce

Let's fuck like we are fucking,
A pair of fucking twins
Let's make believe we two are one
Eight legged fucking freak

I married your arse you know
I even married your thighs
I married all of your
sweet ol' apple pie

I married your body you know
And its dirty mind
I married one of
My own dirty kind