Sunday 5 February 2012

Log



Throw another log on the fire, my love, and
come back to bed, ‘cause I need your
warmth and the steady
pulse of your blood, the soft
circulation of your breath, the
tickle of your lips against my
neck, your log slowly
combusting between my thighs
kindling my nascent flame—
just blow on me, I’m
aching to be consumed-- so
please my love
throw another log on the fire and
come back to bed.

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