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I'm kneeling. My fingers wound Like barbed wire, Knees bear the weight Of my guilt; What I didn't expect To show you Were thoughts in my mind About *** I imagine his fingers Softly gliding along the curve Of my hip And as I gave thanks, What fruit I would taste On his lip And as I said, "Amen, Amen," His fingers stroking And I bending, Pulling Grapes off a vine.
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Sep 1, 2014
Sep 1, 2014 at 11:25 AM UTC
Santa Librada
I'm kneeling. My fingers wound Like barbed wire, Knees bear the weight Of my guilt; What I didn't expect To show you Were thoughts in my mind About *** I imagine his fingers Softly gliding along the curve Of my hip And as I gave thanks, What fruit I would taste On his lip And as I said, "Amen, Amen," His fingers stroking And I bending, Pulling Grapes off a vine.
Originally published in Wooden Teeth (Fall 2007)
marie-word
Written by
Sep 1, 2014
Sep 1, 2014 at 11:25 AM UTC
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