Ode to Pressure Cooker

I have loved you so far
and indeed the finest lover you are.
still i can close my eyes
and to you i can still rely.

I love you without any reason
because when you embrace this heart of poison
which is as fragile as bangle
i have got no sperms in my testicles

I reach to you so thin and dirty like a stray dog
you love my company too
whoever they are
wherever they are from.

You have got no religion
and you dont think of your own siblings or sons
you are the only surviving example
Of Karl Marx

But no lecturer has mentioned your name
in their lecture halls
No one wrote a book for you
No one dreams about you

You are nowhere near the hammer and sickle
But we must still love each other
as i love you always
as you satisfy me all the time.

i even love your song
as you love mine.
But this world is bit cruel to both of us
so you and I must stand by each other

and i must remind you
in the words of Gabriel García Márquez
that "your heart has more rooms
than the whore house"

but i should be right in the best place
as i never hurt you in my old bad days
of fucking prostitution.
And you got no possession.

you got no limits and horizon
and the dreamer, Lennon
was singing for you
I knew and I knew

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