He came on the chorus while I was stripping
I have a whore in my bed. He was a pursuing a career in another world. Though sometimes a jerk, a highly sensitive guy. He used to compare my ass to a roman copy whose author is unknown, but really competent and unfortunatelly without a camera. Since the very first time, I saw flame and a wish to tame inside his eyes mine were wet like never. I was breathing red wine and a constant repetition of the October Song this night. He didnt like it because of the bird talking but came on the chorus while I was stripping. He flew away. I shaved my whole body, ate my protein and got my bed prepared. Another summer will bring poetry along with the growing radiation. I am sure of it, as to fact that I am not alone. Or done. I have a whore in my bed. He, a hole in (one of) his head(s).