Our Queens

Silence! Order! The queen is here.
Arms and legs like kindling.
One asleep down the road, another in here.
About as safe as a skeleton at the wheel.

Silence! Order! Our queen is here.
Adame. Acrown. A death grip.
So far away can't see her face.
But we can hear her cum over the airwaves.

I want it.

I want my cock in a hand on a train.
I want the coolness and the numbness at my fingertips.

Lips at the wrist like razor blades.
That throne of bone grows comforting.
She closes her eyes, but not to go away.
This could be my only chance to usurp the name

They go. They get off.