Eating cherry pie
what I remember
is her right index finger
curled around mine
It's child warmth
and tenacity
clinging to me
over her shoulder
her face turned away
in the red pillow
Drinking green tea
I try to reassemble
how we came to be
naked in my bed
and that moan and wonder
of moles and nipples
mirrored
But I can't
her finger has me
Sunday, January 4, 2009
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2 comments:
Fingerlickin flakycrusted good warm stuff right there, G. And the audience wondered: whose cherry was it that got redpillow popped?
Ahhh, the mysteries of the universe. A muse by any other name...
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