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May 2010
accurate exact
daughter of clean confusion
pull all the littles
in straight sounds
arch your back
as you cry a dream from
spent lips

sweet sister you make
my skin ache
so aware of the lack
of your touch

i wish i could be
the canvas of your
hot little nails
slashing delicious
splendor round rough
necks
a nape like no other

you mother of my desire
PK Wakefield
Written by
PK Wakefield
800
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