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Sunday, 8 January 2017

[Poem] Your Pleasure, My Shame

Wine ages, love rages, 
Like your passion outages. 
You know where to find me, 
How to make me breathe
Faster, with your fingertips, 
Or silence me with your lips. 

But you would strip it all, 
Leaving my dress in the hall; 
Along with my dignity, 
Your identity, my cry, 
Which alternates between pleasure 
And that of shame.

Copyright © thearcticstar 2016

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