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Feel It



Skin sweaty with bullets like rain,
    air heady,
       smelling of jollity.
Arms wide,
    like wings of a dove.
Mind on what is to come.
Will it be finger soft caressing,
      up over pimpled flesh?
Or the wanton grip of perverse need
       between open knees?
Find the place where
      two become one. . .
          delve into licking across slippery surfaces meant for pleasurable fun.
Slap that,
     suck this,
             Ride it,
                subsume the moment to
                           FEEL IT. 

J.M.

   


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