|
When he comes behind me And reaches, Hovering... The masculine limb, Scant inches from my skin-- I can feel him. I can smell him. | Coming
| Between his chest And my back-- The moment, Excruciatingly sweet, An eternity At the edge of release, Like a poem coming on...
c. elyzsia 2002. | |
The Moodswings Interchange***
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c. elyzsia 2004.
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