Daddy Cut Me See Poem by James McLain

There are two courses, only two.

One circles round, two it run's,
the other's, never seen.

I never shared my gift of love,
with those of soft pulp wood.

I was always yours or hers, my needs
were met by both, by candlelight.

The other does her nails, the other's face,
I wash away, the midnight snow.
It is of course July, when it show's most.

If of course one dies, another I will get,
masterbating one, the other tries.

The bell around her neck, for me she wears,
Frost around her lip's, have turned them white.

For in their bed I lay and do not stir, they stop,
It is better than the night before.

When I died twice.