a mild dynasty
of destructive lust.
Pulsing through
electric veins
rushing warm.
pooling-
like warm bath water
settling in a naked navel.
--
Don't get up too fast.
I can feel you seeping through my
thin cotton shirt.
an oil painting
translucent
and free.
--
your lips are poetry against ears
and feed me lies on lips to chin.
its magical the way the movements stir
my shifting thighs and grasping hands.
a velvet tongue
that tastes of summer nectarine
and permeates through daytime dreams.
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