Uh, not to mention, She jerks out of her death and the rim of lipstick, and grabs a cellphone, keys, the likely right / She leaves an ex behind, which evokes a bedside table, to me, and even She opened up her knuckles after class lends itself handily to some very porny readings, if you tilt your polarized screen just a tad.

Yup. This here's a poem about powerful female sexuality. Queer female sexuality. *nods sagaciously* *effect is ruined by the fact that I typoed "nobs sagaciously" on the first go*

May I add this to the Mother Lode?