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Jul 2016
tell me

lying there,
open and bare on cool linen sheets,
are your thoughts innocent?

they lick the bare white of your ribs,
swirl around it's bone smooth edge,
and beg to be tamed

lean over your trembling, salty skin
and whisper sweetly in one ear,

is the blood rushing to your head?
Written by
Amanda Roux
  524
   Colm
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