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Jan 2011
Soft, blush skin,

Aches to sink into their rightful place,

Press into their fleshy counterpart,

Yearns to push their sweet companion,

Longs to touch, to taste,

Form into the contours of a mirrored feature.

And nervously dances slurred words about,

Just behind their surface,

To tell you to kiss them ever so gently.
Kimberly Gillespie
Written by
Kimberly Gillespie
4.7k
     Weedy pops and RuthAnne
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