Your hunger was clear
It was the line of
Your delivery, I feared
Your eyes scanned
And selected one
From a menu
Of one hundred and one
Your need was too much
To make it home
Entering a doorway
You exposed
Wrapping ripped
And pushed roughly back
Just showing enough
For you to attack
Finger shoved in
For a sample taste
Of the pleasure
That lay in wait
You ***** *******
Did you mutter Grace?
Whilst I stared at your
Beautiful contorted face
Fluids mixed
In a cocktail of haste
A curdle of raspberry ripple
We did create
A groan escaped
Followed by a
Belch of contentment
This burning heat
Will need some redemption
Cold and congealing
Thrown at your feet
Another half- eaten take away
Left on the street
Lynn Hamilton
29.03.2015
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Take Away Love
Sunday 29th March 2015 8:16 pm