Removal is an art form
with respect for skill
Regard it as Tantra
and it becomes religion

Prey on me, as if in prayer
descended on bent knees
in worship

Listen with all five ears
Pay attention, to the give
of the unmentioned
where it meets my skin

The catch and release
of breath, deep
inside me, speaks volumes
of your technique

Rough fingertips
impress soft skin,
welcome to invade
my last barrier
this nylon gate
to the Promised Land

Just the right pressure
on the small of my back
A slow slip south
lets you in

Caress your way beneath
the trim
and inhale me
like cinnamon smoke

One last tug
of ribbon and mesh
at the mercy of pearly whites
and I come undone

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