As I Play

As I play my thumbnail
Up and down your left sole
You squirm well full and anticipatory
Beneath my languid fingers.

Our toes tow their line
Then intersect each other...
You then see me smiling
As I back away from you
Knowing well what it is
That you intend to do.

Then I phone my manicurist
To visit your chiropodist.










Poetry by limber junctionson
Read 787 times
Written on 2008-07-30 at 04:44

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