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I squirm in my seat. The pricking of my dreams, Like a long… Slow… Lazy drag of a soft feather along my back. Tormenting, And ticklish, As all those little stinging secrets Start to come pouring out.
0
May 6, 2018
May 6, 2018 at 2:04 AM UTC
Sting
I squirm in my seat. The pricking of my dreams, Like a long… Slow… Lazy drag of a soft feather along my back. Tormenting, And ticklish, As all those little stinging secrets Start to come pouring out.
Sometimes dreams are harder to deal with then reality. Add to that the way dreams tend to stick with you through the day especially when your mind confronts you with secrets and you have this poem/
SilverLaughter
Written by
28/F/Vermont
May 6, 2018
May 6, 2018 at 2:04 AM UTC
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