Bed sheets breed contempt
And with every moan
Comes the groan
Of the familiar
Still,
Better to be with her than with out.
For when hands twine like vines
We become organic.
And when the sweat clears
And the giggles start…
We become orgasmic.
And the shadow of the doubt disappears
In favour of hope
Because this time
THIS TIME
The work will be worth it.
And the knowing will run past body parts and touch hearts
Rise of the Ex
© Tracy J H 30:04:11
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