dear warm little hole
the instinct to procreate
hardwired into all domesticated primates
has led me to send you this
valentine card in a
facile,
shallow
attempt
to convince you that my biological imperative
actually represents something
ephemeral and profound like
“love,”
rather than being yet another
example in a long line of ritualistic
gestures intended to daze
and confuse you just long enough
for me to climb on top of you in yet another
fruitless attempt
to plant my
sperm
inside
your
cervix.
sincerely,
your honey bun
Horror Sleaze Trash 