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Aug 2021
The pleasure of a well turned phrase
Does not approach your touch, your taste,
My tongue's adventure in your lips,
Smooth motion of your pulsing hips.
If words could ply their way inside,
I'd give up my infernal pride
And scream your name--a madman's way--
To ask if you have more to say.
Bobby Copeland
Written by
Bobby Copeland  65/M/Kentucky
(65/M/Kentucky)   
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