Submissions by PictureThis
POEMS AND SHORT STORIES
The Love Making Of The Mouth
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He hunts at Dusk
Before anything else, I saw his shadow dance on the wall.
And I played the fool like I never saw it coming.
Like I never missed the embrace that covered my every inch so well.
And gentle. Though he was a mass of raw, hot energy.
Of raw, hard meat.
Ssshhh, he's coming. And I whispered out a moan.
But only in pure anticipation.
His arrival was taking too long, though it only took him a second.
He closes in.
He breathes down on me. Tempting my body to notice his prescense.
But I play hard, dumb. Like I don't want what I know I NEED. ...
And I played the fool like I never saw it coming.
Like I never missed the embrace that covered my every inch so well.
And gentle. Though he was a mass of raw, hot energy.
Of raw, hard meat.
Ssshhh, he's coming. And I whispered out a moan.
But only in pure anticipation.
His arrival was taking too long, though it only took him a second.
He closes in.
He breathes down on me. Tempting my body to notice his prescense.
But I play hard, dumb. Like I don't want what I know I NEED. ...
715 reads
3 Comments
DU Poetry : Submissions by PictureThis
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