I was just trimming the beard about my sex(Sorry if you did not know royal women do this)
And nipped in error the skin between my mound andThigh, a tissue cleavage as soft and unhurt
As any among my husband's old properties. An alcoholPad is there pressed, and stings me, burns
Bacterial moat-hoppers that could get excitedAbout trouncing the king to the velveteen purse.
He says he should be the only one to courseMe, that the belt is the equal of one hundred
Warships in the South Pacific. He boastsI am lucky. When I first eyed the silver scissor
I thought to slice my wrist, but a vast canopyOf solitude brought me to my vanities, and how
My fusspot maidens were having tea just then. To groomAny part of my own flesh is sure subversion. So
I choose the nearest I can pinch to my blackishHole, and begin by candlelight, in a commode, to snip.
