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May 2017
I’m sorry I didn’t tell you

I missed the feeling of your **** between

my lips

and your ***

when it drips

down my chest

and my thighs, pressed tight

are still slippery on the inside.

I’m an eel moving

with the pull of your current.

I’m a siren

singing full volume in the desert.

I want your elixir

your kingdom ***

in the bedroom,

but you’re not dreaming.

Late night snacking

on this *****

you’ve got a craving

and my hips

won’t quit

until you’re shaking


from the thrill of it.

Daddy goes down,

but his last call doesn’t come til’ sun up.

Shape me and mold me

every color of

your ****** deviancy.

I’m not a cure,

but I’m fixing

to explore the furthest reaches of your boundaries

of this bed

of your – flexed fingertips.

I’ll wake you with my mouth

if you put me to bed with yours.

I’m pleased to please you,

sweet release in these sheets,

tangled up inside me.

Your aftershocks got me shook.

To the boy with the eyes,

the color of the sea –

I fell into more than your bed.
Circa 1994
Written by
Circa 1994  Florida
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