Songs for the doomed

for illicit lovers

one and all

the things they do

ear rings, underwear


left laying around

lipstick smudges

and smutty notes

make it so easy

for collars to be felt

pockets to be found

empty phone calls

in bad disguise

wronged numbers

hot in whispers

intrigue of promise

sighs sibilant siren sounds

and we are trapped

in wonder


and deception

created long underground

in unconscious wish

to be found out

naughty again

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