Deep and dark secrets of which no one will know but myself.

Without hair.
Like where perched
Fathers wives law-sisters husbands middle sons older sisters two lines,
Where her youngest
Brothers mothers husbands sisters law-lovers latest seeds love-meat knocked,
During pleasure-quest and exploration
- few times each year through primary life.

With blood.
Tangled black atop cotton fibers everyplace,
Down Saturday and through Mums mouth.
Steam-baked in concrete with side of tin,
As teeth break lip and skin ushers nails inward.
Lambs food-way left red ring, like black ring left years on.

Milk white.
Easier but closer to the without hair.
Faker heart-pumps carry more deception breaking head
To drop water on what the inside feels only.
God then crafted man of bad feeling to fashion every carbon
Of bars my future person behind will sit
For victimizing oneself to the crumble of desire.