shawty be kray

my first island woman was kray;
she wanted me to wear her panties
if i was going out that night without her.

my second island woman was kray;
she made a voodoo doll out of me
and ensured i felt every needle.

my third island woman was kray;
she sliced open my chest,
took out my heart:
licked it, bit it, chewed it,
spit it back out and sewed it up.

my fourth, fifth, sixth, seventh,
eighth, ninth, tenth, eleventh,
twelfth, thirteenth, fourteenth,
were all just as kray, but i can’t
stop; i’m addicted to the spice;
might be because i’m a jerk.

Published by

jonathandeanrichie

Recently moved back to the States after living 16 months in Vietnam. I write to remove the thoughts trapped in the cobwebs of my psyche before the spider envelopes me whole.

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