Something About My Bombs

If any bombs are to be dropped, let them be love bombs, equality bombs. Book bombs, beauty bombs. Buddha bombs filled with great aplomb bombs. Bombs that even take a knee in the fight for racial justice bombs. Don’t wanna hear any moody, bluesy doomsday bombs. Just wanna feel the reverberations of peace and liberation bombs. Bombs that boom one nation under truth. Bombs that say please and thank you. Bombs that put rational thinking before bombastic Twittering. Bombs that don’t wear apocalypse lipstick to dinner parties. I want libidinal bombs. Bump-humping kinky frequencies of sexual healing bombs. Flirty bombs. Wordy bombs. Bombs crooning such beautiful tunes even the bombest of songs will swoon.

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