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-14.12.19_04:17-

by dokurtybitz
My fingers run over
Rough, sandpaper skin,

“This won’t do,
It will be rough
Against her soft, smooth skin”
Delicate petals
Under tangled curls,
I miss the sweet taste and
Her fingers
Driving my
Hair.
Time to shave
Smooth skin offered
To her.

Posted on December 14, 2019 at 9:27 PM in Mike, Poetry   |  RSS feed |   Reply   |   Trackback URL

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