Slayed
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I trace small loops there,
(Your palm's soft center),
Like swiping phone apps ...
Your arm hair stands, stiff.
Grabbing my finger,
You squeeze tightly.
I plunge your eyes -
Swim their hot gleam.
My slave finger
To your mouth,
You smile, sweet,
Kiss the end ...
Mind blown,
I'm yours ...
Slayed.
~ 1st Place ~ in the "Any Theme Diminished Hexaverse" Poetry Contest, Charles Messina, Judge & Sponsor.
Copyright © Gregory Richard Barden | Year Posted 2019
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