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Feb 2012
I trace my fingers along your smooth,
Porcelain hold
And I decide yes.
Yes, I want you tonight.
Because I am cold
And your heat is enticing.
I sink my body slowly  
Into your hot embrace,
A sigh passing my mouth,
While waves of warm relief
Cascade down my body and face.
I roll and writhe in your hard grasp;
It’s loud like a waterfall
So I try to speak to you, but you’re thunder
And I am pounded down until I gasp.
I’m clean, I’m new, I’m shiny, I’m wet.
My painted face is gone, so I look like a child
With the wide eyes, except for the *******,
And sensation that is nothing like regret.
But my time with you is spent:
It’s growing colder because heat doesn’t last.
And my skin is speckled with chill bumps
Because your skilled, cooled fingers are still bent
On coaxing sighs and smiles from my lips.
But you have to leave now:
Down the drain,
Like the wantonness from the dip of my hips.
I open my eyes and I’m alone.
I was always alone.
A red mouth from the glass of wine in my hand,
Burning candles that must be blown,
Tiled walls and tiled floors glazed with water,
And perfumed bubbles still
Hanging in the strands of my hair.
Because I’ve been in the bathtub with
Hints of steam still in the air.
Loxlei Blaire
Written by
Loxlei Blaire
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