tagErotic PoetryWadded Red Lace

Wadded Red Lace


It was not the way she handed him
the damp undergarment, nor
her slitted eyes, her half-smile,
her snake tongue flicking at the air for scent.
It was that the lace was wet. And why.

After mojo_cat's story "Coffeeshop."

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byPoetGuy© 8 comments/ 2835 views/ 2 favorites

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