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Click herethis poem was written on May 13th, 2007
my sharp pointy fingertips
preying upon his
soft succulent lips
his fingers (gripping
scratching my thighs)
they slip slide
twisting deep
inside
he says
hush don't (you) stop
sit woman
sit
down
we're
exchanging parts and
twisting keys inside out
until finally:
spreading my
treasure box wide
for his deep rooted
frantic sighs
from a glass
drinking me up
drinking me up dry.