We slept where you and I were secret
agents and
Lovers too and we couldn't stop
spying and
we couldn't stop
cumming and then we
weren't sure which we were really being
paid for
- all our undercover action
or all our action
above the covers
(never under, you and I, unencumbered and
so easy to
surveil).
Then we discovered the truth, which was,
you know:
information
after all:
intelligence,
when they took our baby,
when they hailed
the exceptional child as
Double Agent Supergene
. from to harvest entire agencies of
upcoming generations.
We had to vet her play dates
it didn't matter
they'd all turn triple play gents before
puberty even.
Liberty means nothing, lovely, in our
familial clandestine operation.
Hence for final Christmas we stole away
with her to
the breech
sipped red tea with the enemies she knew
as mommy and daddy too
listened to some god awful folk music
stepped into the hootenanny line of fire
crept back to our hidden vault of attrition,
our lair of compromise, and
summoned those above and
beyond geopolitical concerns.
For, finally, we had no allegiance to
our global race of betrayers. We played the
hand not one of the hustlers nor handlers ever
knew we had. We called it
Celestial Override.
