It's me, alone in the big white bed, wanting to come and put myself to sleep.
It's me, touching those tender spots on my breasts, tracing the swell of a nipple, pinching the tips so tender, and hard.
My hand between my legs
My hand inside my cunt
My warm, wet flesh
That smell rising as I arch and come
My mind dreaming of you
of my collar
The man no longer with me
No longer here
Wednesday, June 20, 2007
Talking to the hand
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