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Click hereI go through my day doing all the right things, speaking my broken- record words. "Yes, Sir. Anything else today, Sir? Your change, Sir." Smiling my pleasant, empty Hee Haw smile. But they don't know all the while I think not of them and their cellophane- wrapped goodies. I think of butterfly wings and arched backs. I think of my whispered name shivering in the dark. I think of how you can share taste in a kiss, of how the last kiss I tasted, tasted of me. I think of first and last impressions. And of the last impressions you left on me. A matched set, five on each hip. All day, I think of when I loved you last and it gets me through. I can't wait to love you again.
Not a big fan of prose poems, so some of this is may in deference to the better poet below, BUT I do like that Hee-Haw smile, takes guts to put it in, it sounds so self effacing, so unpoetical, thereforth it is (poetry).
You make me smile! Whether by will or skill, I cannot always decide. This is excellent writing, swallowed... the uppity people call it "literature." *smile*