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Silk Strand Rondine
Hot hushed hisses sweet nothings drip;
On alabaster skin they land
more ruse than the rough of your hand;
Holding me in an ego trip
you try to squelch me with that grip;
Throughout centuries they have banned
hot hushed hisses;
Fangs that nip at my lower lip
you buckle me I cannot stand;
Those shackles to me? A silk strand;
Baby go on and let ‘er rip,
hot hushed hisses.
Copyright ©
Melani Udaeta
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