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by Doug Pugh

Firm rounded curves
To hold in a grip
That I offer to my mouth
So I can plunge
My head
My face
My soul
Into your liquid depths
To quench the dryness
Of my longing
And sate my hunger
For the honeyed dance
That you dribble delectably
Across my aching tongue
While my teeth gnaw
Teasingly closer
To your skin
As I seek
To absorb



Copyright © 2007 by Doug Pugh

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