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That Tongue
Fundamentally,
It was shock she experienced this morning.
Perturbed,
With the ease of his tongue,
To weave such vernal vocabulary
That last night
Had raised the ridged nap of her plush fabric
Consumed
With this sensory depravatiion
The desire for his shuttling
And the warp and weft of his absent tongue
His pure spun ability to heddle her
So bespoke the silken twists trailing in her mind
Keeping her twill pure
And clean of the plisse
That would otherwise de-sheer
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