Let me lead you into the darkness

only for a few steps.

Lead you back to memories of a body suspended from a doorway

No noose involved.

It was for pleasure,

Right?

Sex,

The robotic thrusts

and mimicry of cinematic static dust

He dressed me up as pubescent smut.

And with the

fronthand

backhand

back of the hand

to the face

to the breasts

to the ass

to the stomach

Trying to fill every orifice with flesh

Slapping out senses

Fulfilling his necrophiliac lust

Sex is not the same;

It is a weapon,

A projection of masochism

I won't touch.  

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