sugarfree delirium!
my masochism drowns in effervescent
red and white:
piquant, like a raspberry in which are stabled
indefatigable manchurian soldiers,
marching valiantly with
squinched Asian faces accross
the rugged terrain that is
my upper and lower laterals.
oh, sugarfree Trident!
you are modest with your charms
as well as with your potential for causing
severe mandibular melancholy.
you promised me a brighter smile
but not a broken jaw
and a night appliance.
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