your form is blurry to me,
your form is fuzzy to me you see
when you lay by my side i
cannot describe why
laying down next to you i find no lines, or borders, or rules,
no judgment. between our bodies lay only contours,
comfort, acceptance, sex and perhaps
the cream to your coffee.
your body prostrate
has no law defining the separation of your search and my state.
we are simply existing, marinating and steeping,
in this balance of feigned love lore
in search of an immediate succor,
persisting.
we persist
and cease to ponder.
we allow our hands to wander.
our hands assist
and we discover
the pleasure of wanton splendor.
delicious.
juicy.
fleeting.
consuming.
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