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"maldon" poems
The scratches feel raw Dirt frames the arches under my nails. Dirt tastes good on goat cheese with Maldon salt Our soiled fingers intertwined as you rip your lips into the nape of my neck Wild blueberries ***** against my belly as you push hard inside me from behind. We lie slumped, content, complete The trees forever our silent witnesses How beautiful it is to **** with you! To linger, spent, smoking a delicious cigarette Dizzy on ****** and fresh air. Bread crumbs, cherries, a used ****** dark chocolate melted, two cigarette butts. Manet would be jealous...
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Nov 18, 2018
Nov 18, 2018 at 3:06 PM UTC
Le dejeuner sur l’herbe