A poem by anonymous.
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Content Warning: sexually explicit
Is it not a beautiful thing to love you
To wake up at morn and feel the hairs
Of your legs against mine, your hip bone
Tucked under my portly stomach
My arm numb and pins and needles
From resting your head on it, puffs of rank
Breath coming from between your lips
As you still sleep
The glow of the sun through the window
Too-hot on my covered body
And too-bright against my eyes
The rest of the room dark
Is it not wonderful to recall
Our stolen moments alone
Where I held you between myself and the wall
Kissing you senseless as we both ran out of breath
The feeling of hard stone against your back
Cooling you from behind as I kept your front warm
Losing my resilience in fighting
The compulsion to attend to your every need
My growing desire great yet taking yours first
My desperate hands reaching for your soul
To show my devotion
Waiting for your every sound and sucking it into myself
Is it not electrifying to touch each other
My hands around your waist
Your lips tasting of pomegranates
And mine of cardamom
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