tagErotic PoetrySome Slow Eddy Where

Some Slow Eddy Where


Ever my fingers imagine
Your delicate lips, how they part
Liquidly, like the slow wake
Of a flatboat poled up the bayou
Nestling into a bank where snakes
Could not possibly bite. I
Could bite you there, darling.
Yes, there would I bite you.

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byOpenField© 8 comments/ 1391 views/ 1 favorites

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