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Click hereDawn rises,
soft, red-orange flower
building its way to
blinding fireball,
I drop the bag with
a clang, tools of the
trade are heavy, and head
to the back.
Bed and shower vie for
my attention, but cool water
wins out over soft, comforting
pillows.
Standing in the spray, I
unwind from the night;
even as I watch the
vampire dust spiral down
the drain.
I find this poem incredibly erotic. I know the vampiredust thing is a clever idea from one of the threads but I tune in more to the idea of work, strength. fatigue, water, warmth and masculinity.
Don't let Vampire Dust go down the drain! <joke> I liked this odd little poem. Thanks.
Tess