Saturday, May 9, 2009

fraises

sugared, tasteful spring buds are fingertips
caressing the back of your throat
her sweet perfume that permeates
your thick presuppositions
of an after dinner delight
the perm you ignored
discarding the wisps of her
feathered cap in seeking
the ripe flesh you've come to expect
how you stroke her skin
with your lustful tongue
wrap your lips around the tip
with one final tease
and bite.

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