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Apr 2014
***
My fire is nibbles at the neck.
My spirit is the soft gasp through parted lips.
My pain is fingers curled in sheets.
My heart is hands leaving bruises on smooth skin.

Your fire is crude words whispered against flesh
Your spirit is demanding grunts.
Your pain is making it last just a little longer
Your heart is my pleasure
A class exercise that I wanted to experiment with.
Charlie B
Written by
Charlie B
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