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"SOFT
LIPS"
by
Lianne Olive Hennig
Soft
lips, and slightly wet,
Warm from trembling, and
A little set apart
To show a glimpse of teeth,
All shadowed white, that yearn
To know the tender bite
Of neck and lips; to trace
A tongue that writhes and dips.
Strong
nostrils, flaring now.
Clear eyes below a defined brow -
Eyes of swirling hazel pools
Stoked by fire that never cools.
Soft
lips, muzzling down beneath
A damp and tingling brow to
Skim a trail on cheeks ablush, then
Feverishly onward rush to
Nip the neck and stop retreat;
To bring the victim to defeat.
Then, finally, without protest
Soft lips are of soft lips possessed
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