Maroon
Cotton
Over Worn jeans;
His fingers find
My covered folds.
Exploring I take
His mouth
and taste,
My fingers tug
At his
cotton.
Impulse flares;
It is
mid-day,
There are no familial
Duties to
fulfill,
There is no reason
For false resistance.
We fall into bed
Fall into
each other;
Maroon cotton and jeans
Tumble to
the floor.
Ariel
ALB
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