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Playful Fingers…
He kisses me like a caterpillar
Curling in a sun aroused flower
So playful is his desire his ardour
My carpel wishes are to enclose
Around that: wincing thorn of pleasure.
To entrap alone his stamens tongue!
Amidst; the sepal-hips of my thighs
Now to cocoon, locked, playful fingers
And petal wings together.
poem
by
Mark Heathcote
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