deepundergroundpoetry.com
Fingers
Mingling
between weaving locks
Staring
into blues as greens unlock
Caressing
strands before play beckons
Gripping
tight when time reckons
Squeezing
two pounding breasts
Pinching
reds on a heaving chest
Slipping
deep into clinching folds
Trickling
wet as the doors unfold
Searching
for a throbbing bud
Hoping
for a gushing flood
Smiling
when musk finally lingers
Coating
skin of conquering fingers
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