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knead me
thread me with ur fingers
I am the eye of your attention
and the thread of your thoughts
and passion
The moon basks through
the blinds
coating us in its tiger stripes

U want to be soothed in massage
rough handed measure
bruises pulling
shoving and squeezing

"Do it like U mean it"
a hiss..a moan..a whimper
and I press the Breath from
your chest.
flatten your breasts
leaning over you from above
our hips against each
other the heat like a fire
where we touch

I knead ur shoulders
like a tigers paw
hand strong from my work
my riding
my years of labor
knowing Ur boyfriend wont
do this
not in his character
Ur trade with him is sex
and cash
an upgrade from your last\
violent control freak
whom you need time to

And my work is maintenance
sexless....more intimate
giving of your back
shirted sheet covered

You drool in the pillow
you reset your head on
your long beautiful hair
draped off to the side
so I can work your neck
like a big cat

If I could Purr I would
but I feel your small frame
beneath me responding
working down your spine
pulliing....pushing. working
the stress that makes u
grind your teeth sometimes

I have been doing this for so
long I cant remember
and all reward me with Intel
vodka rides..knuckle off the press
articles of their wear
hip shoes and shirts and
jeans...candy from the
glove box scented in
their perfume

Strawberries and ghosts
stand against me
our eyes soaking each
others in..

want lasts longer then
sated love
the satisfied lust
unconsumated hunger
burns into the depths of
the psyche like a flare
a blowtorch

strawberies and pale winter gooseflesh
in August and an open

My work is never done
I am not a main player
but an asisstant
and how
the assistant is so close
so intimate
More then a lover
Every freckle
every pore


Editing stage: 


This is amazing poetry, i can't think of anything else to say, but i'm going to read this again and again. Regards Roscoe.

Roscoe Llane,

Religion will rip your faith off, and return
for the mask of disbelief that's left.

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