Stella,
my dearest,
is it so cruel of you
to graze those thighs
against my peach skin
and not follow through?
Stella,
is it so cruel of you
to let slip those sighs
as you caress your breasts
but ignore mine?
Stella,
is it so cruel of you
to stare into my eyes
as your hand wanders down
and you finally unwind?
"Stella,"
is it so wrong when
my soft moan escapes
as I think of you?
Stella meos in nocte.
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