Monday, March 2, 2015

To Graze Her Dazzle

Smitten sagas spring sweetly 
forth on leggy lips 
as a worthy writher's eyebrows 
darken with kink. 

She's combed out 
the willies to welcome 
my prick and me.

She bowls shyly as
a wet swastika when
we lumberjack each other, 
no lotion like our homecoming. 

We munch a manifesto, 
delicate as the skirt
over a glans's xenophobia.

If I stepped out of her 
glory I would smother 
all and sundry.

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