tagNon-Erotic PoetryMs. Jonathan Harker

Ms. Jonathan Harker

bysusansnow©

She befriended Hyde, but fell for Quatermain. He, an old man, she still looked little more than twenty. It had been a long time since someone touched her. Long years passed without a man crossing her threshold. She remembers his control over and precision with Matilda. His trigger finger. The loose folds of cold skin pigmented but in splotches like his love Africa. The ticking of his pulse. She and Hyde still speak.

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