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quenched
oh ...
let me ...
I thirst for you
like the desert for rain
the thoughts of your warm places
dance on my tongue like tangy candy
saturating my palate and
my imagination …
I have no reward without your plea
I am pliable clay in silence
but when your need moans my name
I am made steel, unceasing …
tell me what you want -
your crave and your cry are my only cares
desire has but to trickle off your
lips to make it so,
but please, make it so ...
for I am moonstruck and madness
until I partake of the sweet, tart ambrosia
that steams and stirs
deep inside ...
you.
Copyright ©
Gregory Richard Barden
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