Form: Free Verse
The trailing kisses
like salt on a wound
in burning pain
that brings comfort
yet demands her hunger
that begs for more
more leather
more skin
her pleading
my answer
more kisses
spiking the nerves in sweet torture
as her body aches
and her tears flow into cotton
while tormenting fingers
find their rhythm
the carnal want of pleasure
washing over her pain
© JG Farmer 2019
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Published by Raven
I am a freelance writer and poet and started writing after raising my two boys as a way of discovering just who Jez is. That is still very much an on-going project but the journey so far has introduced me to many wonderful friends and fellow writers through an ever growing love of poetry.
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