Apothecary of decadent dark shadows
and tablespoons before the cold moon
mortar and pestle powdering my labia
with two interludes of wanton cello
a modus operandi between my thighs
listening to Mantovani’s, “Unchained Melody”
and feeling your tongue kiss my soul
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“My tongue kiss your soul?” That is very deep. Love it
Hey! Thank you.