deepundergroundpoetry.com
easy with you
circular beds
and flesh
the scent
of her
hot-white
flower
i wish
i were
back in
her garden
beneath
our sounds
were low
moans
striking,
striking
over arched
with shifting
pleasure
i watched
her sleeping
and flesh
the scent
of her
hot-white
flower
i wish
i were
back in
her garden
beneath
our sounds
were low
moans
striking,
striking
over arched
with shifting
pleasure
i watched
her sleeping
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