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They Don’t Kiss
 
“I don’t kiss,” he tells me as I move my mouth toward his lips. 
 That’s what they all say. 
 I get the best compliments on my kisses. 
Andy, with a British accent said he loved my lips. 
 
That’s what they all say 
Like I’m supposed to believe them when they say, “I don’t suck,”
But Andy with a British accent said he loved my lips.
He kissed me in the nosebleed section during a bad horror movie
With Schlitz malt liquor on his breath. 
 
Like I’m supposed to believe them when they say, “I don’t suck,”
Becuz Andy did when we got naked on the living-room floor of an 
                                                            Empty apartment
With Schlitz malt liquor on his breath,
With my finger up his sweet, fat ass. 
 
After Andy got naked on the living-room floor of an empty apartment,
I discovered over the phone that his British accent was fake
After I finger-fucked his sweet, fat ass
On the carpet that smelled of mildew.
 
I discovered over the phone that his British accent was fake 
When he told me that he would be moving to Atlanta to become a cop like his dad,
After fucking him on the mildew carpet of an abandoned apartment.
He wrote a bad check for the videos he rented from the bookstore I worked at.
 
When he told me that he would be moving to Atlanta to become a cop like his dad,
I scratched his name out of my address book.
He wrote a bad check for the videos he rented from the bookstore I worked at.
We ate fried shrimp at Shell’s Seafood two weeks before.
 
Before I scratched his name out of my address book,
Before the bad checks and fake accent that made me fall for him,
We ate fried shrimp at Shell’s Seafood two weeks before
I wished him well and set my sights on a brotha in tight jeans & cowboy boots.

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