Release
By: M. MacMinn
dank and worn
tossed aside to the floor
soft and salty
forgotten frills, frayed lace
cupping them to my nose
breathing you in
learning the intimate you
in the shadows, I pulse
I stroke, I grow
I smell you, holding myself
in the secret security of solitude
I imagine myself upon you
pretending to know you
I release
www.markmacminn.com
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