Fragonard # 29 by Helen Della Rosa

A white bed sheet sprawled across a sofa,
the scent of body odor and sweat hangs
in the air, a person in a coma
once laid here, this is the place where he bangs

a multitude of women, the moist sheets
contain messages written in semen
he does it once, twice, three times, then repeats
the ritual again like a demon.

How on earth does he get loads of women
to go along banging with him, it's a
mystery, he smells just like a lemon
that's why women give him the time of day.

If I had mysterious skills like him
I'd bang a million women on a whim.

"Paper Wings" by Kenneth Larot Yamat

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