deepundergroundpoetry.com

the fork on the spoon

sometimes i imagine the way
his touch
would feel upon my skin,
his breath
would feel upon my neck,
his tongue
against my teeth-
then i bite my own
as i stare him down from the left side of the bed.
I cross my legs...
i must always remember
to not run too far
with my imagination.
Written by innileika (Silvja Weiss)
Published
All writing remains the property of the author. Don't use it for any purpose without their permission.
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