His hands track
the mere suggestion,
a secret, hidden path
in the dark.
He follows soft impressions,
pillow prints on my cheek,
waffled blanket lines
crisscrossing my belly,
a suspicious trail,
wet over my thighs.
I treasure the moment
he finds his mark.
His fingers hush my lips,
and we breathe together
in the stillness.

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bySelena_Kitt© 2 comments/ 12719 views/ 0 favorites

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