How My Wife Disturbs the UniversePeter Davis
She was broken glass and I was shoeless and I ran to her and sat cross-legged and picked her from my feet. I said, “You're beautiful bloody.” She said, “I know.” I wiped her on the rags that I kept in the kitchen and I cleaned her from under my fingernails with my sharp tooth. She tasted like dried blood. She said, “Do I taste like dried blood?” I said, “You do.” She said, “I can hear you chewing.” I said, “I’m smacking my lips.” I sounded like a penis entering a vagina.
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