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Click hereHe gave it to me
slow and easy
his hands
under my ass
pulling me forward
there was no rush
the time was ours
to talk
to feel
to be
my age is starting to show
in the cracks and crevices
I call wrinkles
but his patience and attentiveness
had no end
I breath him in
and come undone
I was told
he was a lucky guy
no, I think
I'm the lucky one
I really liked “and come undone.” because of what you wrote before the line. In fact, I might have ended the poem there.