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there was never any need
to sway from the bunkers
that evening the way the tall
pines swayed mastering
my innermost self to a tiny
craft beneath the woods
as night shattered the small
lantern resistance followed
far beyond what I needed
at the time of the entrance
gathering I remember being
consoled smitten from the bottom
of the calvary where haste had
bothered to intrude I catered
to your manhood even though
it had withered long before
the boots had entered I didn't
dare blink mine eyes wide shut
my ruby red lips trembled I
licked them in a brief attempt
to moisten them preventing
a cracked chafing effect biting
my bottom one merely drawing
blood tasting the rawness of fear
the red coats were leaving now
standing before me was her
in all her beauty in all her glory
America embracing my tiny form
Copyright © Yolanda Nicholsen | Year Posted 2022
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