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The Television Maid

by Johnny Crimson

The illegal moan
of double-stitched lace,
a crave lives down by the sea.

A glance in motion
her neck swings round'
rose eyes bind looks into lust.

Tongue forced
hands behind
a meeting made deep in the dark.

Every Wednesday at 8 you do that to me.


Posted on 10/22/2011
Copyright © 2022 Johnny Crimson

Member Comments on this Poem
Posted by Gabriel Ricard on 10/22/11 at 02:11 AM

The great ones leave a mark. Awesome work.

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