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politely snowed

by Vikki Owens

i dressed in my snowy white best,
my sunday dress that covered my knickers and knees,
and the translucent skin
that you rove about like a roustabout jacknife knave
to have a little taste of
what makes this girl as pure as the driven snowdrifts,
who never lifts her hem, the politeness of men
is her penny in the wishing well.
a girl with lips to be kissed does not give her kisses quick,
but wears her divinity in the shape of her hips,
in the rise and dips of her neck
suckle-slip a tongue back in her cheek, she doesnt speak
the filthy words of the weak,
she leaves these things between the sheets
when she meets you on the weekend.

12/02/2011

Posted on 12/02/2011
Copyright © 2024 Vikki Owens

Member Comments on this Poem
Posted by Gabriel Ricard on 12/03/11 at 12:05 AM

I could read a whole damn book of these.

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