next poem >Andrea M. Lockett
Bewitched
Your soft brown
outtie buttoned belly
puts a hex
on my good sense
Your dark lashed
deep molasses eyes
makes fever rise
Your smooth warm
luminous
taut skin
begs me to sin
The slow grind
slick swivel of your hips
invites my lips
So hang on, baby,
while my hungry mouth
heads for the south
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