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Click hereA thrust,
A grunt,
A deepfelt sigh.
A quiver,
A quake,
A raised, wet thigh.
Of two,
Or three,
Count noses, not eyes.
To see
And feel
A girth or size.
A watch
that ticks,
Not with the time.
A veil
Of glass
Just for a dime.
'Til tight
The Ball
Of flesh and lust
Will gasp
Its peak
As all things must.
We watch
Behind
Mirrors, one way
Rubbing,
Stroking,
No one to lay.
Glass fogs,
Coins glint,
Towels wipe away
Madness -
The edge
Of this girl's stay.
You do great with rhyme and the ending is excellent.
has nothing on you. Imagery to the point, very much enjoyed, thank you.
is accurate and enticing :) perfect pacing for a poem like this, good work
it again.
I love this....
and it's pretty accurate...from what I've been told...
To begin with, I wasn't sure if I was going to like it. Quickly, I found the rhythm of the words and found myself delivered to your interesting closing lines:
"Towels wipe away
Madness -
The edge
Of this girl's stay."
Nice read of a form I don't particularly like. Thanks, JUDO.