Saturday, December 3, 2011

The Bull

"Look at me," she would breathe,
Jaw moving in sublime rhythm
"Look at me!" she'd say again
And I, as a raging bull, would
Look into glassy eyes
Wide with desire and a hand to guide her
Muscles arched against my own
Red hair unfolded like a cloak
She'd gasp in my exhales
Almost fearful of my fervor
But knowing I only

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