Octopus
would, that there were four of me
the ways that I could pleasure thee
each tentacle to tender tickle
fancied freckles, firm or fickle
one all-at-once massage, divine -
all hands on deck, in grand design
perceptive palms with petting jives
could raise a rash of ‘rotic hives
oh, goosebumps of the finest kind
quadrupled thus to blow your mind
four tens of fingers, fixed just SO
to warm the embers down below
mass touches placed with dermal love
bear moans from zones rare spoken of
pray how could one but NOT adore
a mate like me, (and mine) …
times FOUR?!?
Copyright © Gregory Richard Barden, March 16, 2023
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