2002-10-31 : 12:47 p.m.
a free-ing poem
***Dwelling Memory of My Thighs***
I wear your words like a satin glove- encroaching on my thighs... that remember you- as they propel my legs foward, in their attempt to be free. Creating frictioned heat- on Each Other-- We and they. so similar to the temperature felt by your lips, your mouth, your face- on My thighs- that feel insulated by it's memories of you. And held captive, by the wear of your words.
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