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deepundergroundpoetry.com
Arousal
The twilight had descended when I woke;
I sensed his lips were resting in my hair;
His kisses carried me like fiery smoke
To a warm place, when he could strip me bare,
He found I lacked resistance to his need;
And knew, already, my turf was not dry;
Aware of dampness, he would plant his seed,
Once he had thrust in deeply to supply
The presence I desired, without speaking;
Or any hint of wishes to be met:
A want to feel him fucking - not a weakling -
But potent, masculine and keen to get
His satisfaction, through our slow carousal,
Once he woke me, assured of my arousal.
I sensed his lips were resting in my hair;
His kisses carried me like fiery smoke
To a warm place, when he could strip me bare,
He found I lacked resistance to his need;
And knew, already, my turf was not dry;
Aware of dampness, he would plant his seed,
Once he had thrust in deeply to supply
The presence I desired, without speaking;
Or any hint of wishes to be met:
A want to feel him fucking - not a weakling -
But potent, masculine and keen to get
His satisfaction, through our slow carousal,
Once he woke me, assured of my arousal.
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