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Aug 2015
i like my new journal
because
the cover is of
soft leather that
i like to rub
my hands over and
pretend
it's you
that i am touching.

i must say,
i really did
love
your little friend
down
         there.

he
was always wanting
to jump
    skip
    hop
          into my hands
                         my mouth.

and you
were always so willing
                           and wanting
so very much
to give me a
play-by-play
                    a reenactment
of all the shooting stars you saw on the inside of your eyelids.

your lips
were never quite firm enough
but it felt all the more
better that way
when you would lick down and around
                                                          ­        and then further down-
kisses of a feather.

and it made
                    the *******
feel that much
stronger,
              that much more ******.
it was the only release from so much anticipation that you could truly
                                                           ­                                                      give me.

our nights
                 in the back seat
of your truck
were
        well-spent:
                          full of **** and *****
                          and steamy windows
                          from showering in each other
                          and two whole people
                                                          ­     free from expectations.
                                                   ­                                                   a real rarity.

we both
found
something close to safety
in the pores of each other's
                                            skin.
       ­                   
                                             ­        i wonder
                                                          ­          if it all feels the same
                                                            ­                                            when
                ­                                     you're with
                                                            ­her.
Written by
Ford Prefect  22/!
(22/!)   
409
 
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