Folded in triplet
And emblazoned with the bust of War,
You await an evening’s conquest
Loaded with guilt and nonoxynol-9;
The armor of trust.
A mask--
For within are seeds of something more powerful.
Deeper than the breast of the sea is your spirit.
Purity prepackaged and more potent
Than the horns of Aries,
You await an evening’s conquest
Loaded with lube and razor blades.
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